The abduction
by Danny Brooks
Summary: Carol Pennington's daughter is taken with her best friend. A mystery of sorts in sues which entails the help of a wizard of natural magic. Carol and her husband along with select friends are taken as students of Crimson Leake. He instructs them in the spirit of natural magic and a chase through a menagerie of characters follows and Shirley and her friend are rescued.
1. Taken

Chapter One

Taken

**1**

Carol sat straight up suddenly in her bed, hazy remnants of her nightmare clung to her like a tight piece of clothing she couldn't remove as the bright sunlight burned its way into her opening eyes, painfully blinding and burning, searing a stab of pain in her brain as she came to an awakened state.

A chilling vision of her daughter's twisted face of fear remained in her mind's eye. She shook it off, and with considerable concentration, pushed herself up from her comfortable bed and groggily crawled from out of her dream state.

Carol stumbled to the bathroom and opened her eyes again as she saw the haggard image of her unmade-up face, and pushed her limp hair up from her eyes and sigh a sigh of weariness brought on by the dream. Splashing water in her face and brushing her teeth to help remove that morning yuckiness from her mouth.

Stretching her lovely, slender arms, she reached out and pushed them up and out, over her head, wincing at the tightness in her shoulders, yet enjoying the feeling of release as the tightness pulled loose and tensions began to leave. Yawning delicately, she shook the remaining morning cobwebs from her head again, and bent over, shook her cute, short, brunette locks, and forgot about the nightmare. Life in the mid-thirties, still holding on to a moderate youth.

Glancing quickly over at the pillow where Bob's head normally lay as she steps out of the bathroom door, an empty depression colored her mood as the empty pillow met her gaze and she wondered why he was already up. _He had to have awakened much earlier than usual, _she thought with dismay. _I wonder what he's up to?_

Paranoia started to build up her blood pressure like water gathering before a newly placed dam, and she began to feel her old friend anger rising out of its lair. It started swelling within her and she felt her self getting angrier by the minute, as there was no one to calm her down. Her nagging depression increased also. Carol remembered that the bathroom light had been left on again, AND, he had left the **damn door **open too. And Holly (their husky-retriever mix), had of course, wolfed down all of their cat's food; **and the fucking rule in this house was to shut the goddamned fucking door to keep the goddamned fucking dog out of the goddamned fucking cat food! **Carol began to see red.

Though she was at the mercy of her anger and her usual mood swings like a goddamned pendulum, she sought desperately to calm herself down. Concentrating, trying to pinpoint exactly what was happening here. Suddenly a memory surfaced and she remembered that her dream was about her daughter; Shirley had been abducted; taken, in that dream.

Now she really needed Bob to be in here. He was definitely going on her shit list this morning. _He had no fucking idea how much it costs; how much money leaving that door open would steal from their account. _

Carol couldn't pinpoint exactly when she'd began to have this feeling, nor could she exactly grasp or remember any of the specific details or particulars which stubbornly insinuated themselves into her busy, active morning; (_it could be just a remnant of her nightmare_) nor did she care at the moment, as she grew angrier by the minute. Looking at how careless Bob was with her needs and wishes, he was a handy victim. He was careless to the point that she knew he was slowly driving her crazy. She felt like she was going completely nuts sometimes. _I'm not even making sense to myself_. She thought with a silent snicker.

Carol didn't really know for a certainty that there was a kidnapping, despite how accurate she felt her suspicions (which tended to lean toward abduction) to be. She only knew that something was amiss. Picking up the scattered dishes throughout the room from the previous evenings snacking, she carried them to the kitchen. . . And returned to the bedroom.

Creeping into her emotional state, a knot of dismay surreptitiously wriggled, like some kind of a writhing snake, a little at a time, enough to scare her, filling her already frantic mind, with such vagueness, rather than any definitive knowledge. It all seemed too impossible. Knowledge which did nothing more than confuse her further, and yet confirmed her premonition that something definitely was terribly wrong. Suddenly, that feeling of a compulsive terror; a knowing of an awakening to being fully aware, and that she was feeling that poor Shirley was truly in trouble. She was pretty sure that she was experiencing that trouble right now, at this very moment, and whatever it was. It was something so terrifying and frightening, that she was sure she would be forced to endure it, filling her with excruciating impatience and experiencing extreme discomfort.

She shook her head to clear it again and called out her dog's name in her little squeaky master's voice; "Holly! Here girl!" Jumping into routine, maybe forcing herself to facilitate some kind of action, hoping something would come to mind that might help.

Holly hurtled swiftly through her bedroom door and leaped into the air, right into her arms as she knocked her to the chilly floor completely overwhelming her and forcing her groggy mind to awaken to an alertness with which she could face the day's problems. Though these premonitory feelings still continued to nag at the back of her mind (and nagged at her for the duration of the whole morning) she was determined to push on.

She playfully wrestled with the dog in a disinterested manner some and, then gently pushed Holly off of her lap, and scowled at her menacingly as she staggered across the floor and through door of the master bath. She bent over the sink, splashing cool tap water directly into her face. Carol wondered at the same time; **why she tortured herself this way**. The cool water on her puffy face felt good though, and it did help to wake her up.

She dried her face on a towel, then began to scrutinize the tiny age lines and magically appearing blemishes which seemed to pop up exponentially all over her body as the aging process slowly moved forward. _In my thirties already _she reflected sadly, also reflecting on the time it takes for gravity to slowly and casually draw her skin and features towards to floor without the slightest care, reeling in her youth as though it was a fishing rod and reel, leaving her eventually all alone, in her old age, feeling hopelessly and helplessly lonely and alone. Deeply depressed.

Though she quite stubbornly and persistently, pushed those feelings away, and labored with great effort, trying desperately to convince herself that she could believe everything was alright as she habitually made the bed. Those feelings of doubt and dissonancy continued to build. Their strength burgeoning in her mind, bringing her to the realization that something with that taste of a bad portent was hanging in the air. It occurred to her that not only had something happened to her daughter, but also a sneaking suspicion was growing that her own husband had in some way been a part of this. He could be manipulating and perhaps he was undermining the stability of their family. Carol did not like that. At all! It scared her deeply.

She made every possible effort to appear to be in a good mood despite her long night of interrupted sleep, but the internal persistence was way too great. It was as if it was relentlessly grinding down upon her mind with thoughts of what might be happening. A mind with an imagination that kept returning to where she could feel the essence of her daughter; and seeing in her own mind that Shirley was surely in trouble and in need of help. Carol was frustrated by her uncertainty as to what to do.

Carol carelessly dumped the contents from a scoop of Holly's favorite food into her green rubber food dish. She usually liked to watch her sweet girl while she ate. Just because she ate with such joy and abandonment. But, the whole time Holly is munching, that nagging annoyance keeps returning, time and time again with a unrelenting insistence. Anguish coursed through her as her emotions threatened to overwhelm her, slowly eating away at her own sense of self as she began the painful process of once again collecting her cool, calming herself down and putting on a face of cheer, though false it might be. A complete façade and exposing the truth back at her in graphic clarity, in glaring detail (some of which, no doubt, was imaginary).

Growing even more still, her doubts, seeking to dominate her in the deepest, farthest recesses of her soul it seemed, bringing tears, unbidden, to her eyes. They built, brimmed and overflowed and streaked as they cascaded down her face in tiny little rivulets, streaming gently but swiftly down her smooth cheeks, leaving their staining tracks on her skin as it reddened and tightened suddenly into a dryness which tugged at her face slightly. Her beloved pet ignored for the moment.

Anyone looking at her would see her haggard appearance and not knowing it was from lack of sleep - well, she was sure that her whole body was aflame, the entire, whole network of her nerves was tingling like it was a colony of bees in a disturbed hive, her body began shaking, almost uncontrollably. Her shivering intensified and her worry grew into a billowing cloud of blackness building on her increasing reservoir of doubt at every instant. She could not help but acknowledge that it was that feeling that was threatening her.

Her lack of resolve attacked her from the inside and her feelings of helplessness, keeping her reminded of the look on her daughter's face the very last time she saw her, where she'd shared with Shirley her anger. Words of anger had spewed from her mouth as she'd scolded her about how much of a disappointment she'd been lately. It was a face of anger, rage and also fear. She hadn't even made any attempt at finding out what was on her daughter's mind.

Bob strode briskly as he entered the room while carrying a brimming, steaming cup of Columbia's finest black coffee. The cup is a fine, black lacquered, porcelain cup, hot coffee spilling over the rim with every step, little tiny puddles forming and sitting on the matching saucer. He had a smile plastered on his face as he excitedly approached, but it quickly turned into frown and he adopted a sulky attitude when he saw the expression on his wife's face and the obvious trace of tear tracks on her cheeks.

He really should have known better than to ask, but he went ahead and asked anyway. "What's wrong honey?!" Sitting the cup and saucer down on the side table, shaking the excess liquid from his fingers, he sat meekly on their bed, being so careful so as not to sit on his wife's legs (which he'd done before).

**2**

Bob's words never registered in her mind as she was too deep in her own thoughts to listen. What brought Carol out of her current psychological concerns was his sudden presence. She quickly turned to him, trying desperately to hold a pleasant demeanor. However, her face convulsed angrily, briefly and then quickly settled back to a mere subtlety, as she dabbed her tears dry with a crumpled tissue. Shame joined the array of emotions she was feeling and it flooded her completely, making her feel like he'd just had a close, introspective look at her innermost thoughts and feelings. How could she even have nerve enough to question him about his behavior having something to do with her premonitions about Shirley.

Embarrassment reddened her face. Flushing it with color. She knew she shouldn't be angry with him right now. It was entirely possible that this wasn't his fault and he had nothing to do with it. Surely, she was beyond **just thinking **something had happened to Shirley. She had a building premonition that something was really going on with her family but she had no proof, and certainly, no blame that she could honestly place on him. And nothing specific to address. He was just so handy sometimes, and she often felt like she could take out her anger on him, so she had slowly grown the habit of hassling him in a teasing way, but which had grown, with the passage of time, to a surreptitious, venomous rancor. She whined in a furtive voice that she knew would annoy and torment him; "Something's happened to Shirley! I can feel it. I know it." Carol whined and she began weeping again, her voice shuttering provocatively as she spoke.

Sympathetically exaggerating while coming to her side (more like pathetically in her mind), Bob snaked his slender arm around the back of her neck and on to her shaking shoulders, pulling her up close, pressed against his rib cage, she could feel the bones through his side, she deliberately focused on the depth of his eyes. He averted her stare and instead, he tenderly smooched the top of her head and whispered in her ear without much conviction. "Don't worry! She'll be ok. I'm sure she will. You know she's just over at Kathy's house, and that's just down the street. They're having a sleepover. Remember? They're just sleeping in like the lazy bones they are. We'll call them if it'll make you feel better. You just relax. Will ya!" He just stood there with that slouching shoulder and that goddamned sheepish look of bewilderment on a face that belongs to the fool who will claim no part or parcel of what is happening to this fucking family. His only thought is of himself and about what his needs are. And . . . Oh! What a surprise, here we go again!?

Carol deliberately hid her anger (how patronizing he is) behind a frigid exterior and tried again, holding her husband closer and pulling him in for a hug, she very willfully peered straight into her husband's blue eyes and she saw something there that she was sure he was hiding. She couldn't quite distinguish exactly what it was and she surely didn't let on that she'd seen it. She only knew it was there.

He glanced at her sharply and only stepped out of her pathway.

She peered down the hallway and watched Holly as the dog slinked away with an sullen attitude towards the kitchen and into their family bathroom as Carol absently snapped at her husband, "You never listen to me Bob! I tell you I can feel things are happening when they happen, and you never listen to me." She forcibly got control of herself and began with slower, deeper breaths, something she'd been learning from some of those instructive programs which were available to her through their Netflix account. She continued in a somewhat lower, more controlled voice, "Something has happened to my, uh… I mean our… daughter! Bob! And whether or not you are going to believe it, I know what I know! And I know that it is happening. And it is happening right now! Right this very minute."

Bob, ignoring her little tirade, went straight back to the bedroom and picked up his cell phone from the table and punched in the number he'd gotten out of his daughter's notebook which was out where Shirley'd left it. He was pouting. **Thinking snappy comebacks which he would never **_actually say. _She'd left it by the lamp on the side table sitting by her bed. Carol sighed and followed Bob back to the bedroom and stood just outside the door as Ruth Stone answered, Bob handed the cell to his wife and Carol held the device up to the side of her face (briefly thinking of the possible effects it might be having on her health), and Kathy's mother's worried voice blurted; "I'm pretty sure they've gone to the mall. It's where all the kids go to hang out after the movies. Or, it's possible they might have ran into some of their friends from school and are just loitering around at the theater or somewhere. I'll be sure to have Shirley call you back when they finally get home." She was trying not to worry.

**3**

Carol reflected on the woman she still only thought of as Kathy's mother. They were practically strangers, although they see each other occasionally at school functions or at the local grocery, they weren't really friends. In fact, they were barely even acquaintances, didn't know each other at all. Their daughters had found a common ground and had become best friends irrespective of that though, and that fact alone, has forced them to spend some time together (which they never would have done) whether they wanted to or not, at least for the duration of whatever troubles the girls had somehow gotten themselves into.

Awakening to a beam of sunlight catching her eye as it was slowly creeping, painted by the rising sun on its way the sky, across the floor and into her eyes, brushing aside the darkness of the night, as if cleaning the coming day, an astonished Carol realizes that she has dozed off, of all things, and she was now leaning, sprawled actually, across the kitchen table, apparently still awaiting a call which never came. Her eyes were sunken and ringed with big, dark saggy, puffy bags. She cupped her hands over her shamed face and swallowed the feelings brought on by an internal darkness (nothing related to the shadow of the sun) where there was no possible light which could pierce through it to her saddened heart as the truth of her feelings settled into congealed certainty, lodged deeply and firmly within her mind. Something dreadfully awful had happened to her daughter. And she knew it for sure. As her despondency deepened, her heart vowed that she would demand payment for what is being done to her and her family.

The ring tone sounded from her cell phone abruptly, jingling in her upper pocket of the flowered housecoat she was wearing. She removed the cell from her pocket, flipped it open and placed the cell phone to her ear. The voice on the other end of the transmission sounded as weary as she did. Probably from lack of sleep and worry, just as she herself had from having to wait without an answer.

Waiting for their daughters to come home.

Waiting, at least for some information as to their predicament. Evidently she'd not been the only one sitting up and worrying all morning long.

She looked up as her husband, Bob, actually walked out of the door, slamming it as he left the house and roared away as though everything was just fine. _How can he just leave like that, knowing how upset I am? _Realizing she'd only half heard the voice which was still coming from her cell; "Kathy and Shirley never came home last night! I've called all her friend's numbers and no one seems to know where they are" Ruth Stone repeated with a dismaying tone in her voice, obviously trying to desperately to adapt a disbelief.

"Thanks so much for calling me and letting me know." Carol pushed down the anger she felt that Bob had just left for work, and now Ruth had waited so long to call her back, she sincerely hoped her anger hadn't shown in her voice. She knew it was born of her own disappointment and attempt at denial. Still, Carol bristled a little within her heart as she continued to ponder the carelessness she was accusing of Kathy's mom.

Calming herself was a good idea, so she slowly focused on her breathing deepening it and slowing it down as she spoke into the phone, "Please! Come on over! You can wait with me and keep me company. I have to do something to keep from going crazy while I wait for the cops to show up. I already called the police and reported that our daughters are missing!" And she added a hasty, "I wish you could've called earlier!" That was plenty careless of her to think I should have to wait all night. I'm not just other people, Carol thought, breaking a little with a show of wry bitter sarcasm. "I'm only Shirley's mother!" she snapped, "I wait until late morning, waiting for you to call, while you could have let me know the girls never came home from the movies." Tears streamed from her eyes. "And Bob! He just calmly goes off to fucking work…" she unconsciously throws her free hand in the air, "just as though nothing was happening, nothing was wrong!"

Carol suddenly realized that her depression was deepening. It was threatening to dominate her life and becoming an obsession… and she felt sure that she could win in a fight with it given enough determination to be here for Shirley in her time of need(wherever she is). She pulled herself together with tremendous effort. Cleared her throat noisily and, with a calming of her nerves, said "Never mind. I shouldn't have said that, Ruth. Please! Come on over and sit with me. As I said, I've called the police and Sgt. Reynolds is dispatching a unit to take a report and they are on their way." She could still hear that little inner voice whispering in her mind's ear saying it couldn't believe she was going to allow Ruth to come over. Actually welcome her; a stranger, to her small but suitable home. Such as it is. Modesty personified. Carol was proud of herself.

**4**

Fear always seems to start as a tiny seed but develops rapidly, exponentially and continues to grow as it creeps stealthily and craftily as it settles in side Carol's mind. Deep, dark, and a nasty, seeping terror festered and continued to grow, engendering a stark debilitating assault of anxiety and doubt. Allowing this ensuing fear to engulf her mind, convinced that she may never get the chance to hold her precious daughter again, to pull her close to her chest and feel her motherly influence sheltering her daughter once more.

The day's fickle promise of sunshine plus the wafting aroma of freshness in the air, supplied by the innocent presence of spring flowers, belaying the heaviness, the dichotomy of the situation ominously settling on her shoulders, a weight of such immense pressure that it seemed to be pushing her down and holding her captive, tightly against her will. Her fear alone, throwing her against a wall of impregnability using whatever forces that were available to it, threatening to hold her daughter and that of her new friend, captives without so much as leaving us a clue whatsoever, as to where they might be, and as to what kind of danger they might be in.

She allowed her eyes to sweep the vista, gazing out through the multi-paneled window of their living room. Carol's eyes could see through the artistry of the outlay of their immaculate yard, while the vision of terror in her mind's eye ignored the beauty, of the lush lawn and deep green bushes and trees, crowned especially by the presence of the majestic silver maple; a beautiful tree, encircled with a small, short white picket fence, fronted with short knee-hi benches for sitting. The scene providing a lush green panorama of loveliness, tinged with dapples of sunlight as they danced among the foliage of the leaves helping to settle her mind, but not this time. Though she desperately willed it would, she found instead, her angst stubbornly holding on, twisting her inside and hanging on tightly, refusing to let go.

The magnificent silver maple standing majestically in the center of her yard centered the landscape perfectly and she embraced the memory of the feeling of awe and love she'd felt the first day she and Bob had seen this house.

The morning sun bathed the atmosphere with a crystalline shimmer, and the dew on the grass and leaves gave off reflections of glimmer and sparkle, shooting photons in every direction, making the whole entrance to the Pennington homestead seem royal and mystic. As she watched Ruth approach the house and turn her little Volkswagen bug into her drive, she felt a slight tug of indecision. What am I doing allowing this woman into my house? She wasn't so sure it was the right thing to do, but as she got out of her car and faced the house, Carol was inundated with a great doubt growing in her chest and spreading through her entire being, flooding her mind with doubt and uncertainty.

She considered the early morning conversation on the phone, the never ending wait where she sat by her table, with the cell phone on the table and wishing it to ring. How she desperately wanted to hear someone's reassuring voice, ideally; her daughter's voice, telling her that she was were alright and on her way back home. Dwindling remnants of the shadows from the sun's morning assent shrank gradually back as the sun slowly climbed high toward its apex and onward into the westerly trip across sky.

She was aware of the various birds singing happily, little voices sounding delightful, undoubtedly cheered by the coming of their mates and the development of their offspring, and the otherworldliness she felt radiating from the ambiance of her home could be nothing more than illusion and she pushed these freaky feelings behind her as she shyly and meekly waited for Ruth to knock lightly on her door.


	2. Something done

Chapter Two

Something Done

**1**

As she reminisces on the details of her life, she explored what life was like as a child for her. Ruth remembers love and fun that she experienced, when she had been just Ruthie and life was a mysterious dream, loved devotedly throughout her childhood by her beloved grandmother: Mama Rose. It was this woman who cared for her and mostly raised her. And her love for her grandmother was boundless and Mama Rose had always returned that love completely. Their relationship had grown so large that it had known no bounds, or so it seemed to her then. There existed a mutual, gratiating aura of warmth and acceptance, assuringly nurturing in nature, they gave each other everything that was ever needed by each other, unselfishly and completely.

Ruth had never known her father on the other hand. He was a stranger. One who had left her mother as soon as he'd heard that she was pregnant. Her own mother was much too young and naïve and when she found herself to be pregnant, she was not prepared to take care of a tiny infant. Only fifteen at the time, she was scared and the responsibility of a growing person for which she was ill prepared, was making a strong case for her entrance as a child into her world. So Ruth's raising had, of course been done primarily by a grandmother who provided love and support for Ruth in a full way that never leaves a person. She called her grandmother Mama Rose, her special name. Everyone else who knew her, called her Ms. Elton. No one ever spoke of her illegitimacy and she was never made to feel ashamed of who she was, though she'd always wondered about herself and how she had come into this world. She had determined that her own daughter would grow up in a world where her own identity was one of pride and propriety.

She stood nervously on the stoop of Kathy's friend's mom's house, and finally knocked. Ruth was startled upon hearing the bark of what sounded like a very large dog. A scolding voice shushed the pet and the door abruptly swung open. Carol welcomed her and smiled but in the way she was looking at her, Ruth felt an uneasiness and it seemed to her that beneath the plastic smile there was a repugnance in her look, filled with suspicion and mistrust. She felt somewhat naked and exposed.

Ruth entered Carol's home, her uneasiness increasing slightly as she did, even though she'd stepped into a living space of immaculate keeping, spotless and well groomed, her own personal station in life was revealed. She worked as her grandmother had, cleaning and arranging. Her living was struggled for via her Home Décor Business.

Darkly stained wood grain cabinets, lacquered with black, reflective finished cherry wood and matching counter tops were arranged through-out the spacious kitchen and it gave the sitting area into which she was escorted a homey air and to Ruth it seemed just like a world she'd dreamt of but never believed she'd be privy to. Suddenly she could see the dark bags hanging from beneath Carol's eyes, her face appearing drawn and stark as she bent slightly, pouring hot, black coffee into handsome black cups and handed one of them to her. "There is sugar and creamer on the counter behind you." She said to Ruth in a very small voice.

They both sat at a small, round, lacquered table, both beginning to relax and then, they began to converse in awkward and, at first, uncomfortable small talk, but soon they found themselves relaxing for real and actually beginning to feel somewhat cozy. As Ruth talked she continued to gaze about the house visibly from her seat. She jealously scanned the uncluttered counter tops and her eyes took in the whole room and she could feel with great appreciation the craftsmanship and care (not to mention the money it must have taken) that must have went into the designing and engineering of this superb kitchen.

Chatting about the décor and deliberately avoiding the unpleasantries of their predicament while they waited for a response of some kind from the police, they wiled away the time. Despite the negative attitude she'd received from Carol over the phone, Ruth knew that her host had been through a long sleepless night and that she was deeply concerned and worried for her daughter, just like she was.

"When I talked to Sgt. Reynolds over the phone, he said that officially there had to be at least 24 hours before they could file a report about the missing girls and until then they could not truly be considered missing." Carol rolled her eyes and scrunched up her face with distaste while she was saying this, as Ruth continued to study the beautifully appointed kitchen. "I can't believe they're going to wait 'til then to start searching for Shirley and Kathy! Or, even take my call seriously."

With an abruptness which surprised and scared her enough to startle herself, Carol felt her face form a grimace and knew that her countenance was stripped bare of any mask. Before her accidental guest was a face now revealed, her true fear and doubt, a face filled with worry and concern. Her daughter was truly missing, and would not, nor could not, be coming home anytime soon. She was out there somewhere on her own, somewhere unknown to them and it seemed they could expect no help from anyone until she could find someone who would take her premonition seriously.

Witnessing the morphing of her countenance tugged passionately at her heart. Carol was exposed, bare and open. The distrust Ruth had felt earlier melted away and it was clear that they were growing a mutual admiration for each other which would be useful support for each other at this time of crisis. Together! They would face this glaring horror as a team. She finally felt a growing compassion and a shared worry for their little girl children, no matter their real age. Carol's facial muscles drew into constricted bunches, accentuating the lines of her face and revealing an older age inside, and she burst into tears, losing all composure. Instinctively, Ruth rose from her chair and slowly moved over to lean beside her and comfortingly wrapped her in her arms, gently rocking her back and forth in an effort to comfort her.

"We will get through this! I don't know how! Together we will see our children home and safe. You just wait and see." Ruth whispered close in her ear.

"I knew that something had happened to Shirley last night, just before I laid down to bed." Carol confided. "I could feel it deep within my soul. I didn't know exactly what had happened but I could tell that she was still alive and unhurt, but still, in some kind of deep trouble and I couldn't quite get the details of it to come clearly."

**2**

Ruth suddenly realized that she knew for certain that she and Carol would become close friends and would probably remain so, long after this ordeal was done and over. Her heart ached with a bitter mixture of sorrow and joy as her soul reached out to her new friend, knowing too, that her own fear and worry for her Kathy to be as strong and as pertinent as Carol's concerns for her Shirley. "I didn't think that I could trust you when I first talked to you. You seemed so distant, distrustful. I was afraid of what you thought of me." Tears streamed down Carol's face and they held each other's hand in hope and wished for a small bit of solace.

The door bell rang and in the stillness of the house it rang loudly! The police were at the door. Holly began her barking frenzy again and Carol held her by her collar and opened it quickly and ushered the two uniform clad young people into her living room. Officers Rose and Gentry stepped into her house with an all business attitude, each holding a posture of professionalism, clipboards ready in their hands and dressed in immaculate uniforms.

Tufts of dirty blonde hair raked the back of Officer Rose's uniform, fallen out from the rest which was neatly tucked up under her uniform cap. Her youth gave her a pretty face, framed with curious yet professional, penetrating eyes. Officer Gentry, on the other hand, held his cap in his hand, demurely keeping it just in front of his belt buckle, a concerned expression on his strong, handsomely fierce face. He was obviously older than his partner, but not by much. Carol thought they both seemed a little green and she bid them to have a seat.

The two police persons sat silently for a moment, attempting to assess the two women seated across the small room on two cushioned, well appointed chairs, a small coffee table between them. They appeared to be frightened and both women seemed to be full of worry and despair was written clearly on both faces. Arlene Rose felt a compassionate tug on her heart and her pity went out to them, but these feelings were not shown. She'd heard no sign of desperation from the dispatcher's voice when they'd taken the call. The short drive over to this house had been without expectations, they'd not expected anything more than a routine visit and taking their report of whatever Carol has said had happened. The lack of the presence of the two young girls who had been reported as missing held no specific importance to Arlene, however, upon meeting these two ladies, she did indeed feel that something was truly wrong here and she desperately wanted to help them with their dilemma.

At twenty eight years of age, Sage Gentry was a policeman of good standing at his precinct. He was known to be brave and extremely loyal to his co-workers and has built a fine reputation of honesty, integrity and an overbearing demeanor which stood him well for the five years he'd been there. Sgt. Brad Reynolds, his immediate superior and captain of the precinct, was his friend and being personally invested in his platoon of dedicated men and women, had paired him up with Officer Arlene Rose as his ride along partner.

He'd set this up for two reasons. The first was just to continue her training, as she was a rookie, and so she could become familiar with the job of policing the neighborhood for which they were responsible. Secondly, he needed a new partner. His previous partner; Ralph Haze, had been shot during a routine robbery investigation and had died after an extended stay in the hospital. Only two weeks had passed since that tragedy had occurred, but it still stung. Being a rookie placed Arlene in a position of spending much of her time in untried waters, while it was obvious to her that Sage's time in the field had built him into a fine specimen of a man, giving his fully developed body a definite, strengthened structure and it also gave him an air of confidence.

To witness the stream of information that exuded from that huge pocket of knowledge she was sure existed within Gage's mind allowed Arlene to hold an immense respect and solid trust for him. She was also equally sure his brilliance gave him, along with the added support of experience, a professional confidence and stature of strength which he was more than happy to share and impart to her. He'd been on multiple missing persons calls and was familiar with all the reports and protocols, and she felt reassured that he had, in fact, a handle on this one. Arlene was also pretty sure that he wasn't aware that she was in love with him.

This was only the second such call for Arlene Rose, which made this the perfect training exercise for her. She knew they could count on strong measures from her partner's own experience, and she agreed with him when he told her that he felt that more than likely, Shirley and Kathy would show up sometime during the day with a lame excuse for their absence. She did feel this way too, at least she had until they were sitting in the actual home of these two, obviously grieving women. Officer Rose believed totally that she could see the truth in their eyes and honesty was what she could see through their emotions and she felt truly convinced that something was truly afoul with the circumstances concerning the girls. She remained silent about her feelings though. She trusted Gage's expertise.

Dutifully taking their report, showing the appropriate amount of compassion and promising to investigate thoroughly as soon as the 24 hour period was at an end, the policepersons left and bid them a better afternoon.

**3**

Coffee drained down Carol's throat as she sipped at the hot liquid swirling in her cup, she tasted the bitter sweet liquid as it washed over her tongue, distracting her momentarily from her thoughts, her concerns put aside for a moment. She knew that the two officers did not believe there was a problem. She could tell, she saw it in the expressions on their faces. The relief she'd expected from their visit did not come and she'd been left with more questions than answers. It seemed to her that the lady cop was more attuned to their problem, but her superior overrode her empathy with his own strong doubt.

Her despair had grown into an anger, filling her with even more doubt and deeper bitterness which seemed to match the bitter taste of the coffee that she held in her hand. The fine porcelain cup being ignored, tilted slightly and she jumped as the hot liquid spattered onto her wooden kitchen floor, scalding the inside of her thigh. Grabbing a paper towel she cried out from the unexpected burn and quickly wiped the spreading liquid spill off the floor and wondered how she could be cleaning while Shirley was sitting uncomfortably someplace at the complete mercy of some fucking lunatic, and she didn't even have a clue as to who that lunatic might be.

How was she going to clean that up?

She arose from the floor and set the cup on the counter with trembling hands. Though the police had left her with assurances that they would investigate the girls disappearance and they had dutifully written a detailed report, she wondered if they really understood how desperate the situation really was.

Where was her daughter? What had happened to her and her friend?

Why had Bob gone off to work when he should have noticed that she'd been extremely upset? These questions circled through her mind endlessly, her anger continued to grow and her frustration increased even more so as there was no answer coming.

Ruth worried for her new friend's sanity. She, too, was worried and concerned for their children, but she was trying hard to keep a positive attitude and felt sure that they would turn up, having some benign explanation for their disappearance. Surely, someone would have called with a ransom demand by now if it had been just a simple kidnapping.

"You have got to pull yourself together, Carol." Ruth urged, trying desperately to coax her host into a more positive frame of mind. "They will show up and everything will be alright! You'll see!"

"Goddamnit Bob! That son of a bitch went off to work knowing full well how terribly upset I was. Not to mention the fact that Shirley, his only daughter, was probably in some kind of serious trouble." Carol suddenly looked up at Ruth and her face turned red with embarrassment. "I'm sorry, I should keep thoughts like that to myself."

"No! That's perfectly ok. I know how you feel. I used to get mad at Marvin the same way. I thought that he was the solution to my own feelings of self-worth, but I was wrong. He could certainly be trying at times. We didn't see eye to eye on a great many things. Actually, we saw nothing as each other saw it." soothed Ruth, trying to minimize the situation, a misty look in her eyes. "I found out about his affair and I insisted that Marvin move out. We had a lot of arguments, usually over the most ridiculous things. It didn't take much to set either of us off either. So we separated to cool things off, eventually it ended with our divorce."

"I am just upset that he went to work knowing that I felt something was wrong. Even when we called your house and he found that Kathy hadn't come home either, he still showered and shaved, got dressed in his office suit and left. Like nothing was happening! It's like he didn't even give half a shit where his own daughter was."

**4**

Streaks of sunlight lay in wait, springing suddenly across the stucco wall and illuminating the Shady Lane Motel façade in an odd way, as Bob steered his silver Lexus into the tarmac turnabout. Maybe it was his mood that made it look that way, or maybe he was worried a little about Shirley. He surreptitiously glanced around, making sure that their were no prying eyes. Scrutinizing the peripheral scene around him, he recognized no one.

That's the trouble with small towns. Everyone knows everyone and he went through a lot of trouble to ensure that he had not been seen by anyone, but he still felt a twinge of nervousness, a pressure building in his chest. Mrs. Lois Carver hunkered down nervously, keeping low on the floor in front of the plush, leather passenger seat. She felt uncomfortable but neither one of them could afford to be caught sneaking off. So, she was bending down so that Bob would look like he was alone. The clearly marked parking spaces were mostly empty with the exception of a couple of cars he didn't recognize and for Bob this meant only that at least a couple of rooms were occupied, and all appeared to be normal.

The Shady Lane was not on a lane, nor was it the least bit shady with only a small evergreen holly tree with shiny, prickly leaves and small red berries, in the lot and a small, crooked, misshaped maple which stood alone on a tiny island of grass looking lonely and a little sad to Lois. She kept this thought to herself.

Bob sat quietly for a moment, reflecting on the events which happened earlier at his home. He refused to feel guilty about his affair with Lois as it had been a while since he and Carol had had any kind of sexual relationship. He had a right to be happy. Didn't he?

Sighing heavily, he got out of his car and slid the key attached to the plastic fob with the motel's name and the giant number 7 printed in a raised form on it in the lock and, considering himself a gentleman, held the door open for Lois and followed her quietly in and quickly pulled it shut behind them.

As they entered the small room, Bob carelessly threw the key on the scratched and worn veneer dresser and noted that the room was at least clean if not a little frayed and shabby looking. One side of the room was dominated by a queen size bed, pressed against the wall, lighted from above by a cheap, unseen lamp. At the foot of the bed, sat a small table holding a television set which was festooned with cables and other cords and connections. They certainly weren't going to watch the tube. The veneer dresser supported the key and sat to the side of the table, over which hung a mirror, making the tiny room look a little bigger than it was.

Bob reached out for Lois and pulled her towards him, she fell playfully into his arms, giggling. She peered deeply into his eyes, her expression turning serious and joyous at the same time and kissed him passionately. She began tugging on his shirt, pulling the tails from his trousers as he pressed his body against her, his erection beginning to become apparent.

Lois pulled her face back from Bob's a little, eyes sparkling as they peered deeply into his and whispered, "You know I love you!?" She paused. "How long do we have to keep these stupid clandestine meetings up?" she nervously brushed a lock of hair back from her forehead and put her hand back on the back of his neck. "Mark is beginning to get somewhat suspicious and I'm starting to get a little scared.

"It's not like I want this to end! I certainly don't. I just would like to be out in the open and not have to hide."

"Can't we talk about this afterwards?"

"We've just started to get to know one another really well and it's just that I'd like to be free of our spouses. Mark keeps a suspicious eye on me and I'm sure he suspects there is someone and, or something going on." Her face took on an obstinate look, "I want to tell him about us. To tell him that I want a divorce and then I can just leave. Have you told Carol yet?" Worry lines showing clearly on her face. That little pout that he finds so cute.

"No! Of course not. Not yet. But I will. I just need a little more time, especially with all of these stupid feelings she believes she has about Shirley. You know how accurate she thinks she is sometimes and this would not be a good time to cause too much of a problem right now. As soon as she sees that Shirls is alright and things at home get back to normal, then I'll tell her I want a separation."

"That's not good enough for me! I'm getting tired of having to wait. You've got to tell her you're leaving her now. Come with me, and forget about her and her dumb visions!"

"I will, but not yet! Give me at least another week or two."

"I just love you too much and I'm sure that Mark is capable of doing almost anything to keep what's his." She complained as she began to pull buttons through the holes in her blouse. The lovely shapes of her breasts easily seen as Bob watched her continue to undress.

Lois was also enjoying the show as he too, removed his tie and began to unbutton his shirt, unbuckling and sliding down his trousers. Lois spotted and focused her eyes on the scar which sat on the inside of his thigh. She appreciated a man who had scar tissue and reached out her fingers and drew them across it. "I love battle scars."

Bob blushed, not intending to tell her it was only where a rock had been thrown against his leg while he was mowing his lawn when he was a kid.

Murk Kelantan worked as a private detective and he at the present moment he sat directly across the street, in the Quik-Mart parking lot where his dark blue Buick Skylark served as his temporary camp. Dirty dried mud splatters smeared the windows and in his mind, this worked to his advantage, for they hid his spur of the moment office so that no one noticed the indiscreet presence of his little observatory operation.

He'd wiped a small clean spot in the center of the windshield with a dirty piece of paper he picked up from the floor. A badly worn body, full of dings and scratches, covered with old mud and dust, made the car indistinguishable and one which no one noticed. Murk reflected back over his life as he sat and watched the Shady Lane Motel's parking lot through the small cleaned spot with an old, worn pair of binoculars. He was used to long boring hours and had learned to fill his time by remembering. He remembered his father faintly as the bastard had left his mom when he was barely six years old. He remembered his mother having a hard time being a single parent at a time when it was a rarity. Everyone at school had a dad, but him. He hated his father and if he ever had the opportunity he would gladly kill him for the hardships he'd forced his son and wife to endure. Murk had a lot of anger issues and as a result he was curt, rude and a loner.

He concentrated the lenses of his binoculars on the door to unit number seven. From his current position his view of the door was clear and he would be able to clearly see if anyone came or went. He also continually checked the window, just to the front of the Lexus (nothing but motionless curtains), as he waited for Bob Pennington and Lois Carver to finish their business and leave, his old Polaroid camera ready at his side. This fool Bob was caught in the act of breaking his family trust and in his book that made him an evil son of a bitch. Soon he would add more evidence of such to the already growing pile of photos he had taken of the clandestined pair. He was alone but not lonely, caught up in the mundane but not bored. It was more than a job and of course the pay was great. Let's face it, the business was always there.

**5**

Sitting alone in her kitchen, Carol continued to worry and fret about the fact that she'd not heard anything from anyone about Shirley and her anger continued growing and eventually became gigantic in its proportions. Her feelings for Bob were vacillating, now bordering on hatred and sometimes she endeavored to remind herself that she loved him until she'd finally decided that enough was enough. She excused herself from Ruth as she decided to give her some privacy and left for home, promising to call if she heard anything, she scurried about the house, angrily collecting his clothes, his shaving equipment, his personal hygiene crap and everything she could remember as his and stuffed it all in an old dirty traveling case. She hurried through her living room and opened her front door to set them on the stoop, where Bob would be sure to see them and she hoped he would understand why they were there. Actually, she didn't care if he understood or not.

When Carol opened the door, she was startled and jumped for someone was standing there on her stoop. She was also puzzled that Holly had not barked as she usually did when someone, especially a stranger, approached the house. An old dark man stood there. He was bent with age. In his left hand he was holding a tall dark staff with weird symbols carved on it. The hue of his skin was the color of burnt coffee and he just stood there looking like a figure out of some old movie . Dressed in old worn denim jeans and an old white tee-shirt, now turned yellow, with a small spattering of holes across its midsection and a tattered coat of leather which covered most of his body, he was silent and intent. There was a pouch strapped neatly to his left hip with a cord which wrapped around his waist, doubling as a belt. A gnarly, craggily pocked face with a bulbous nose sat above a long, kinky, graying beard, neatly trimmed and clean. Though he looked old enough to be ancient, he seemed spry and exuded a calmness which seemed startling and incongruent to her. His sudden and unexpected appearance had caused her to jump and she embarrassingly grabbed her throat and utter a short scream.

"Shirley and Kathy have indeed been taken." He announced in a voice which was almost a whisper. "I know a little bit about that and I would surely like to come in and speak with you about it Mrs. Pennington. Do you mind if I come in?" And without hesitation or waiting for a reply he walked right through the door. "Something has been done. Something must be done!"

Danny Brooks


	3. Crimson

Chapter Three

Crimson

**1**

Days before his trek to Carol Pennington's homestead, Crimson sat in his customary posture, meditating as was his way. Deep within his quieted mind, the stillness is clearly detected, the silence is also clearly detected and he recognizes these qualities as fundamentally basic. The dark man, with skin the color of dark coffee, abides in quiet emptiness. He retains a remarkable clarity about himself whereas he can easily see all of what is moving within the stillness, much as a spider feels an intruder touching its web. Focusing steadfastly on the movement of his breath, peripherally noticing all else within his realm of existence, he hears every event which sets the harp of the silent membrane of stillness into a vibration. The vast field delicately quivers with waves of what normally is accepted as sound. Focusing with such concentration nothing of his personal perimeter is missed or over looked and being fully aware of every detection of his sensory organs as they operate within his temporal body.

His body holds a posture of balance and is perfectly erect; stacked as a pinnacle of his uncle's coins, his spinal column keeping his head held high and even (not overly so like snobbery). The comings and goings of all the various phenomena is experienced. Beings who are mostly not seen, and who aren't normally who we think they are, become noticed. The are aware of being obvious and clearly seen. Standing among these beings stands his noble spiritual friend and cohort; Esen.

Esen arrived instantaneously, and without warning, coming with news of an abduction. An event in which he had seen interesting attributes concerning the spiritual realm and situations that just might suit him and his curious nature. So Crimson had arisen from his meditation and carefully packed his traveling bag and forthwith set out for the home of Carol Pennington.

**2**

Viewing the Pennington household for real was not a momentous moment. Thousands of thresholds have been privy to the steps of Crimson as his path has coincided with many. This was only the next one as well as another step in the pathway of his own personal quest, creating, once again, an occasion for which Crimson can aid and then collect what he needed from these people. He'd seen it all in his dream state in very graphic detail many times and knew instinctively that he had better prepare for the coming battle. _The unsuspecting people who's life is now involved have no idea what they're up against_, he mused to himself. He suspected that things would escalate very quickly when the time came and there will be much to do here when the true state of affairs reared its ugly head, which will be soon enough.

However he felt about the people who lived here, he actually enjoyed the walkup the small, cutely arranged stone pathway. It brought joy to his heart to witness life flourish with such passion and this woman's creativity brought pleasure to his heart in spite of the seriousness of the circumstances compelling his visit. Placing his foot finally on the well swept stoop of the home, he stood patiently waiting, as if expecting someone would open the door, even without knocking. He knew that he hadn't needed to knock, and the door did indeed open as expected and there she stood. Anger and concern etched on her face. Carol, a lovely picture of a lady in the prime of womanhood and a worrying mother, totally absorbed in her task at hand, holding in her arms a bag full of men's clothes, a look of serious indignation on her face, dark hair paged cutely.

Crimson Leake stepped gingerly into Carol's home. Carol's mouth opened on its own volition and stayed that way as she watched this stranger just walk into her house and look around as though he owned the place and he belonged there. His walk was smooth and even, he appeared almost to be floating on his feet when he moved. Rather audacious, she thought as he glided nonchalantly over her lovely new couch, felt the cushions with his fingers, and turned and sat down. Only five and a half feet tall, he seemed bigger, huge and overbearing, but with a gentleness which was inexplicable.

Carol was worried about what his grimy traveling clothes and all of his paraphernalia would do to her new couch, though she could see at much closer inspection that they were clean and just a little worn from travel. A small leather, tightly drawn pouch of blonde hide tight around the middle of his waist, drawn closed by a pulled string, hanging securely at his hip. He reached down easily and pulled on the end of the string, loosening the opening. Nimble fingers held the opening wide, while the tie string just dangled. Meticulously removing a tiny object, holding it closely as if to hide it from prying eyes.

His smile was enigmatic, tinged with a trace of humor, his manner that of a gentleman; polite and ingratiating, his countenance grim and sober, with skin the color of deep, rich chocolate. In his hand what he had hidden from her view, was a small, smoothly faceted stone, the darkest blue she'd ever seen. A reflective sheen shone with such a reflection of deepness within, a flash of sparkle that was uncanny and an inexplicable shiver ran straight down her spine. The artifact seemed to exude some kind of magical power. It radiated with an energy which seemed to come from its own source.

Surprisingly, Carol was taken aback by the fact that Holly lay at the old man's feet and showed none of her usual behavior with strange company. She was accepting of the old man in totality and, in fact, was comfortable at his side as if she knew him.

Carol wasn't sure that she was placing too much hope and faith on this guy. She felt a bit embarrassed and chagrined at her feelings of uncertainty.

**3**

Laying his staff to the side, just to the left of his leg, he stretched his arms high above his head and straightened his posture, cracking joints and popping tendons heard clearly. Upon bringing down his arms he exhaled slowly and settled into a relaxed position. He sat close to the front of the cushion with a straight held back, in a cross legged fashion, legs crossing each other at the ankles. Sharp, piercing, dark eyes which clearly penetrated her soul as they focused on Carol. Her body shook as a shiver briefly streaked down her spine again, leaving her feeling exuberant and deflated simultaneously. His stare was powerfully hypnotic. It touched her to the very depths of her being, with a deepness so profound it was nothing less than astounding. She felt completely naked, as if he could see clean through her and as if he knew, somehow, someway, the deepest secrets of her own private heart. He stretched out with his hand stretched towards her as he held the precious stone out, beckoning with a quick gesture, letting her know that he wanted her to take it from him.

Leaning back in her recliner, she examined the stone, turning it this way and that, watching the light as it played through the unexpected facets. "What is this?" Carol grinned, stammering nervously. She focused her eyes upon him, bearing into his soul. "Who are you? Exactly?" a puzzled expression took residence on her face. "What do you want? How can you have known to come here and just walk right up to my door and into my house with out so much as an invite in? I didn't know anyone was going to be on my step.

"Yet, you opened your door to me!" he stated to obvious.

"How do you know about what's going on concerning Shirley and Kathy?" she inquired timidly, fearful of whatever the answer might be.

"It was not I who took them. As I think you know." he said with a shake of his head, "But _we_ shall endeavor to discover where they are and find a safe method to facilitate their return." he breathed quietly. And when he spoke, it was almost a whisper like a monk or a librarian.

"I have come to help you get them back. I would have come to you eventually anyway. You have a mindful power, so I am also here specifically to train you in the use and facilitation of that power."

**4**

"Train me?" Her voice sounded incredulous, even to her own ears, but the shock and surprise of what he'd just said was having an unbelievable effect.

"Yes!" He murmured quietly. " Train you in special spiritual matters, especially in areas which may concern your apparent ability for premonitions, and the probable possibilities that there are other mental capacities as well. It seems you have a great deal of talent and could be rather useful for folks like me." The strange black man drew in a deep breath and held it for what seemed like an eternity.

He finally exhaled slowly and, again, a very long moment, then he resumed.

"It would be a good idea to give Kathy's mother; Ruth a call" Peering deeply and uncomfortably, closely, staring fearlessly into her eyes. She couldn't help but wonder how the hell he knew her name. . . "and ask her if she can come back over, for what I have to tell you is something that both of you should hear. Something for you two to listen to.

"Please! Just put that personal stone away for now. We'll talk about it later in great detail, but for now just keep it somewhere safe. It will bring you personal comfort and strengthen you where you need it when the time and the need comes."

Carol stashed her new stone in a pocket of her purse, carefully snapping it shut and setting it by her right foot. "Is Shirley alright? Has she been hurt?" . . . she was suddenly reaching in her purse for the stone, picking it up again and once again rolling it around in her hands, rubbing it with her fingers. Her intrigue had gotten the best of her and she peered directly, deeply into the depths of the stone. She didn't remember removing it from her purse. She looked across the table into his eyes and thought she saw something shining. Feeling lost and vulnerable, swearing to herself that she'd put this stone away once before, she gasped out with a cry of frustration as she again, noticed the pebble and placed it finally on the coffee table, the finish shining brightly on the cherry wood, and leaving it there. Holly raised her head momentarily and then laid it back on her paws.

He seemed to be pondering her question silently , rather than notice the anxious moment she was having with the stone. She took a deep breath and after a long pause, he finally whispered, "She is frightened (pause) but also unharmed for now, (another long pause) but she is indeed in danger and the prospect of her being injured is quite possible." Turning to look at her, but not unkindly, he went on. "Perhaps we can circumvent that occasion, but we must hurry, so; give your newly found friend a call, for there is a lot to discuss."

"What is your name?" Carol finally asked. Clearly, the mention of Shirley and Kathy drew her attention back to the problem at hand, though she had enjoyed the small temporary reprieve provided by his timely visit.

"I am glad to tell you many things, most of which are possibly important to Ruth as well! So, we will wait." He looked at her with twinkling eyes, an enigmatic grin and a silent, stoic disposition.

"Just making conversation! I didn't mean to seem pushy."

He remained motionless and passive.

**5**

Storm clouds slowly building up in the sky to the east as spring brings the promising aroma of precipitation and the already chilling temperature is falling quickly, giving a brisk sting to the air. Drafts of wind whirled among the branches, swaying the trees and bushes danced, creating a bustle making the scene one of frantic, sporadic motion as Ruth approached Carol's house for the second time today. Shadows were beginning to stretch easterly as the sun moved across the sky taking its place in exile, hidden by cloud. Excitement, mixed with worry, blossomed in her heart and her soul felt suddenly lighter and freer, enhanced by the blustery dance of the trees, all of the bushes and the gathering, darkening clouds built enormously as she approached the door once again.

She glanced around the well groomed yard as leaves and debris danced merrily across the lawn, noticing, not for the first time, the design and beauty of the yard, and the cute little stone walkway, which ushered your steps to the ornate door serving as the entrance of the domain. New leaves were beginning to peek out at the world from the branches of the magnificently swaying silver maple centering the yard. The spring season was quickly approaching.

Recalling that Carol had mentioned she had news of the girls when she called and Ruth was energized by the prospect of learning something more of what was going on. The news had produced in her some spark of hope, a specific lightening in her heart. Once again in the same day, she depressed the lighted button which served as a doorbell, inset on the front door frame and she heard the musical sounds of the chimes. No one came to the door right away, there were no footsteps heard. The moment lingered and time seemed to stop, or at least it passed slowly. No sounds at all came from the home behind the door. So after a moment or two, reluctantly, Ruth mustered up the courage and pushed tentatively on the door. It was not locked and it swung open with ease as if on its own volition, as though someone was opening it for her, but of course, no one was there. She stepped into the house and timidly called out. "Hello!" Pausing for a confusing beat. "Carol!?"

"We're in the den." a voice finally called out.

Ruth followed the sound of Carol's voice, noticing the splendor of the home once more. She is surprised to see a very old, very black enigma of a man, seated on Carol's couch. His mannerisms were gentle and relaxed, every movement exuding a calmness of a sort and it seemed to emanate from him in great waves, wafting her with gentleness; comfort. He held a gnarly, wooden staff, with a polished dark finish, gleaming and shiny, out before him in a horizontal manner over the floor in front of his feet. Extending his arms out so that his elbows were just to the front of his knees. His eyes were tightly closed, deep age lines are vividly visible on his withered face, a bead of perspiration ran down the side of his cheek. His eyes are clinched tight and his shoulders are undulating with a slight quiver as he recites strange syllables, something in a language that sounded odd to her. One she'd never heard before. The scene before her was one that Ruth had never experienced before. It was like out of a movie. It was very strange. At once, Holly stood and trotted over to her side and curled up on the floor beside her.

**6**

Carol, seated on the edge of a recliner just to the right of the couch, watched closely as he was performed his ritual, her shoulders slumped and bent as she leaned forward further and unexpectedly brushed her eyes with balled fists as if there was something in them. Tears streamed down her cheeks and her face turned rosy red, swelling and puffing up around her eyes. Her cute pixie cut, dark brown hair, disarrayed as she appeared to fall into some kind of trance. Her attention totally focusing on her unusual guest. He had her undivided attention.

Ruth stood and stared as though it was all a dream, but found herself asking, "Who is this, Carol?" She slowly sank down into a nearby chair. "Has he said if knows anything about what has happened to Kathy and Shirley?" Confusion drew an expression of puzzlement on her face, creating a crinkling of her nose and raising her cheekbones. "What is he supposed to be doing with that stick?" She was clearly taken aback by the unusual appearance of this strange black man in his traveling clothes, and a strange assortment of weird objects at his side.

She is surprised also by Carol's relaxed manner. _This_ was a totally different woman! Not the same at all as the one who'd spent the early part of the morning with her. Carol turned towards her with such abruptness that Ruth jumped, startled. Carol pulled her face together, a surprised look of pleasure adorning her pretty pixyish face, and she smiled an adoring smile and expressed how glad she was that Ruth has returned so quickly, and so relieved to see her again.

"I'm sorry! I didn't hear you come in, Dear." The quiet calmness in Carol's voice was a radical difference from the ranting, angry voice she'd used earlier in the day. Quite a change had come over her new friend. Ruth felt her respect and admiration for her new friend growing.

"I will begin by telling you that what I am called is not necessarily the same thing as who I am. No one actually knows who they are, usually being satisfied with nothing more than a name, and a few numbers in this current age." suddenly Crimson said to Carol and Ruth in a confiding voice. "That is…my name as I use it at this moment. You may call me; Crim, a shortened form of the proper name of Crimson. My father, an eccentric man with a morbid sense of humor, stuck me with this unusual name, thinking at the time that it was rather humorous. Thomas Leake was his name. He was strict and had no toleration for frivolities. The pun he created by giving me the name Crimson was an inside joke to him. A joke that he was proud of and chuckled periodically about until the day he died. He had reached the age of 82 years. I was actually called Crim through out all of my life as a child by my mother, Kathleen as a matter of fact." He grinned at Ruth. "and it has stuck with me through most of my many years.

"I am a man who feels very akin to the Spirit. The Spirit of Life, that is, in all of its forms, and my calling in life, as well as my own choice of profession, is to expound, expose and teach the understanding and usage of the power of the great Spirit of Life which shines through us all. The abduction of Shirley and Kathy are the catalysts who have brought us together at this time, for your training and your personal awakening to a great many things.

**7**

Seeing reality as it is can be difficult at the most common times, however when stress is at its strongest then that is when it becomes crucial. Reality can swallow you, suck you into its vortex and erase your existence as though you were never born. Most do not realize the fragility of the darkness which surrounds us. A darkness from whence all of the paraphernalia of your perceptions come and go. A pang of regret and sorrow come to Crimson's mind, compassion for the fearless jump these two ladies are being prepared to make. Life is about to become hard for them both, he prayed that they both had the necessary strength and fortitude to understand and use the lessons he has prepared for them. He will begin with the simple and let the essence of that seed grow and nourish.

"There seems to us all that there be at least three persons existing in each of us. There is but one being, but personifications pertain to perceptions of each individual, and the concepts formed in their minds, rather than actual beings. The first person we recognize as actual, is the one we think is there. We perceive our own being and form the concept of who we believe we are, and this mental construct will be a weight on our shoulders throughout our entire life's journey. The illusive ego is born of this conceptual person, a self projected upon our mind's eye to become a persona used for communicative purposes, existing unknowingly, only in our mind, relating to the world outside ourselves like a liaison between our exterior and our interior realms. Each of us endeavors to project this persona out into the external realm, seeking to gain from those who love us the usual needs; food, shelter and companionship. Unknowingly, our projection when received by anyone of the exterior beings becomes the second person, which is related to the first, but different in that this is the person whom everyone else believes we are. The ego, or personage which others see and recognize, is the part of ourselves which they use for their own gains, and advantages, usually at the expense of the other's life and happiness. We all unwittingly recognize these perceived personas as literal individual entities, but to our dismay we find it is also as illusive and unreal as the self ego.

"There is the third and most important person of all, and that is the one being who is actually there, and which, incidentally, is neither of the first two. This is referring to the perceived essence we take as truth though we mistakenly ignore and not see the actual true person, which is there through perception only and not in actuality.

"There is only one person whom is the essence of you. Guess which one of you that is? The Spirit of Life and all of its attributes and facets can be difficult to comprehend, and the conundrum is increased substantially by the usage of normal thought and reasoning. The Spirit is untouchable by the normal thought processes as it is outside of them. So, we must make use of parables and stories; metaphors and similes."

Carol glances up at the clock hanging on the upper part of the wall in the den and noticed that it was only 6:30 in the afternoon. She was so caught up in what Crimson was saying she'd forgotten about the time and the crisis which had brought them together. She felt a bit guilty and asked; "How is this going to help us find Shirley?"

"I'm just laying down some ground work so that you might understand what I tell you. Shirley and Kathy are unharmed and are unlikely to be in danger anytime soon. They are frightened, but a friend of mine is with them and helping them cope."

Esen watched from a distance, keeping his being obscure. He had no reason to announce himself, nor the inclination. His job was to observe and protect if needed, nothing more. Knowledge was a dangerous thing sometimes and the lack of it can work in your favor. Timing is everything and the essence of the darkness was an old and familiar friend. A being of the spirit world, he had no need of a flesh and blood body, but the allure of the negative world could be annoying at times. The evil minds who were responsible for young Shirley's delimma had a rude awakening coming and he would gladly usher in that alarm for them. He had only to wait.

Danny Brooks


	4. Chapter 4 Shades of gray

Chapter Four

Shades of Grey

**1**

A chilly waft of air caressed his cheek, a shiver traveled down his spine, there was a definite bite developing in the air, Bob could feel its sharpened edge carving at his skin as he and Lois silently pushed the door to their room shut and discreetly left the premises of the Shady Lane Motel. Spring needs to hurry and take this chill from the air.

She clutched at her blouse, carelessly drawing the collar tight around her neck for warmth, he draped his arms tightly around her, pulling her close to augment the warmth as they crossed the walkway in a hurried trot, leaning on each other in the afterglow of their lovemaking. They approached Bob's car and hurriedly got in. Staring into each other's eyes briefly, they kissed once more before backing the car out of the parking space and quietly driving away, never noticing that they were being watched and followed by Murk Kelantan in his beat up Skylark. Lois looked up in his face and smiled cutely as she hunkered down in the passenger seat, feeling decidedly uncomfortable and sheepish as she brushed his cheek with her hand, pretending she wasn't there. Lights and signs passed by her window, and from the low perspective of the car floor, she had no clue as to where they were, nor did she care. She was looking forward to a time when hiding wasn't an option, and she hated that they had to.

Bob carefully pulled his Lexus to a stop in the far north end of the parking lot of the Kruger's Food Store. He surveyed the area and then drove slowly down the length of the lot, parked in a space not very far from her little red Kia Rio, got out and rushed around to open her door.

Murk shook his head in disbelief, _So much trouble to be unnoticed and he does this? _he thought. He watched Lois as she got out, stretching her arms above her head to soothe the cramps accumulated throughout her muscles from having to hunker down, and waved a girlish goodbye to him, looking to him like an aberrant teenager. She ran to her little red car, which Mark had bought her, and got in. _A great looking piece_. He chided himself for such an unprofessional thought.

Dropping her off at the parking lot of Kruger's Food Store had seemed the safest plan earlier in the week, as everyone in town shopped there. It was what they had planned to do so she could pick up some groceries and have an alibi to explain where she'd been for the last few hours. Shivering a little from the dropping temperatures, she quickly rummaged through her purse, found her keys and started her car, automatically turning the heater on high, thinking about the afternoon in the arms of Bob Pennington, her new man and she promptly forgot all about the groceries. Feeling satiated and good, Lois drove off the lot and went home.

Bob found himself deeply troubled. Now, in retrospect, he wasn't so sure about the grocery thing. Looking around the parking lot, he realized that he recognized all of the cars here and knew almost everyone who was parked there. They were damned lucky that no one they knew had seen them. He wasn't sure, actually, that nobody had. As he drove off, he faced his dilemma; going to his office building downtown and actually getting some work done, as well as an alibi, paying so much attention to his thoughts that he paid little attention to the town and its people as it slipped by his vehicle. Hoping to clear his mind and shake the case of heebie-jeebies, or going by Town Tavern for a few shots, thereby loosing his troubling thoughts through his own brand of escape. He had to think. He didn't really want to leave Carol for Lois. She was nice and really seemed to care for him, but his wife was still a very strong part of his life, but how could he break it off with Lois without a big scene?

Opting for work, he found himself sitting at his desk, doing nothing but trying to deal with this feeling of uneasiness he was experiencing. His guilt at betraying Carol leads him to the idea that they were being spied on. It nagged at his mind. The feeling that someone was watching him had felt palpable all the way to the grocery. Each time he forced his mind back on his work, that strong feeling would return and slam into him full force. He couldn't shake it no matter what he did. On top of that, that nagging tension being created by those annoying, petty demands of Carol's. Adding to that, being wheedled by Lois to become a permanent partner kept creeping back into his mind as well. Plus, he realized with dismay, he also had to acknowledge that he was being plagued by the possibility that Carol might have been right about the intuitive thoughts she had this morning also.

He fought that feeling of guilt, but could not get by that troubled feeling about Shirley, though he wasn't really convinced yet, that she wasn't really in some kind of deep shit. Unable to concentrate on his work, he rummaged through his desk drawers, deciding to finally make do with a little nip. Having trouble finding his trusty little bottle of cognac, he finally discovered a full bottle of single malt scotch, not the sample kind you get at airports, but one he'd forgotten he had. He cheered his empty office and poured a couple of fingers of the golden liquid into a glass which he hadn't bothered to rinse.

Three hours later, Murk was still sitting in his Skylark, as it sat idling in Bob's company's parking lot; a little hole in the wall office where he does his financial assistance for his clients. His first thought was to follow the little tart, but after long and careful consideration, he decided to surreptitiously following him first, and check on the dame later.

First to the Kroger's parking lot. Expertly keeping a secure and discreet distance between their car and his. Being careful of line of sight, knowing that what appears isn't what it seems to even simpletons like these two bozos. It may not be necessary, but caution is his middle name. Neither of them has noticed his car or the fact that he has been snapping pictures and listening to their conversations via his special equipment, gotten through his many sources. He had some acquaintances, and due to his technical know how he was able to put together a short distance listening device.

He sits idly, slowly chewing on a cold meatball sandwich he'd grabbed at the deli, but without tasting it. The sandwich was as dull and lifeless as a dirty change of socks, the bread was stale and the meat in the meatballs, whatever it was or might have been, seemed dry and bland, absolutely flavorless. He continued to write copious notes and duly codes and collates his notes on all that he has seen Lois and Bob do.

She hadn't gone into the store, and that was tickling his mind a little. They were getting careless and he had a gut feeling that something was going to hit the fan. So he'd decided to follow handyman Bob here, who was now in his office, but not getting much work done if he could believe what he was hearing over the planted transponders.

Whatever Lois's intentions were, they had been averted at the grocery store. Her shopping alibi or whatever seems to have been completely forgotten. _Perhaps_, he thinks as he is reviewing his photos, _they have convinced themselves that precautions need not be further taken. _Murk removes the current film cartridge from his camera and reloads it with another.

He knows that it's time to report to Chester; after all, he is the man who directly hired him. He wasn't stupid and was well aware that there was someone else pulling the strings behind ol' farmer boy. He still hesitates however, mulling over contingencies before he picked up his cell phone from the stale fabric of the front seat and punched in the number. The man who hired him was Chester, but he wasn't very smart, neither was he clever enough to run any kind of operation on his own, to Murk's way of thinking. But, that was not his problem. Whatever his client thought of the results of his investigation was immaterial, regardless of what might turn up. It was of no consequence for him. He collected his fee anyway. It was just his business to investigate the people he was hired to watch. The particular situations they got themselves into mattered not at all. He lost the signal.

As an added bonus, he got a real thrill and was really amazed at some of the incredibly stupid circumstances his clients and their troubled acquaintances could get themselves into. Also, knowing what everyone's secrets were and being smart enough to discover them while remaining incognito was a personal perk for him, an absolute feeling of pride. No one seemed to be really interested in his activities, only the activities of those he was watching. He punches in the number again, gets an answer and waits for the message prompt and calmly makes his report. "Just reporting on my findings to date. Mark's wife and Mr. Pennington did meet again. They are continuing their fling, such as it is. For now, they are going their separate ways and she should be on her way home." He closed the connection without waiting for a pickup.

**2**

Upon awakening, Shirley sat up from the floor and wrinkled her nose as she was unpleasantly overwhelmed by the pungent array of odors. Mildew, some stringent cleaner, a disinfectant of some kind, she guessed, and the musky smell of maleness permeated the air, making it difficult to breath. The foul, odorous stench of decay, cloying and thick, stubbornly set up its home in Shirley's nostrils. Each breath was a very unpleasant experience. Subsequently, an annoying tickle had settled in her throat, keeping her irritated and leaving her throat feeling scratchy and strained from the long night on the floor. She brooded and admitted that she was in a low mood and that most of the night was spent in despair.

Screaming. Screaming. . . And screaming some more, for hours on end, and calling for help. There had been no response. No body seemed to be within range of her voice. No one could hear her. Not even her bff (best friend forever), Kathy. The small enclosure (closet; pantry or something) she was cramped and uncomfortable, not even as big as her closet at home. She found she was in a solitary cubicle of about three feet in width by five or six feet. The walls were filled with shelves starting at about two and a half feet above the floor and going all the way to the ceiling, about seven feet above her head. The shelves were lined with shadows of cans and indeterminate substances in jars and various containers. What was in them all was a mystery. She seemed to be right about being in a pantry or, perhaps a cupboard of some sort. The floor was covered with layer after layer of disintegrated, peeling linoleum tiles which was perforated with dents, scratches and indentations. The whole floor felt gritty and dirty, very sticky due to some unknown goo which had evidently been spilled on it and never cleaned up.

She needed to wash, as she felt terribly dirty and grimy. She wanted to wash her hands really badly. She remembered just being tossed in here, landing roughly, and the door slamming shut and being locked.

Kathy had been dragged off to somewhere else and she'd been left alone. Her hands weren't even tied behind her back at all. Her mouth was free and open, so she was glad that she had not been gagged. She began to search as best as she could, gently following the contours of her prison, but she could find no way out of the locked room. She worried from time to time, curious as to what Kathy might be going through, and she wondered what her captor had in mind for her as well. Was she just waiting for it to be her turn? A shiver ran up her spine as she began to whimper again.

If she hadn't wanted to see that stupid movie so bad, then perhaps she wouldn't be here. Her memory played back to her all that had occurred at the Brookneal Cinema, a picture of how dark and crowded it had been. Shirley and Kathy had talked about boys and the mysteries of sex while they perused the theater, collecting snacks and souvenirs, eventually finding their way to a couple of vacant seats situated toward the rear of the theater where they could be unobserved and bothered by no one. Their hands were full from holding their drinks and their arms were loaded down with snacks they'd purchased at the snack bar. They sat gratefully and unburdened themselves, settling down in anticipation of the movie, placing their drinks in the holders attached to the arm of the seat and popping open the first bag of candy.

An old gnarly gentleman sat beside Shirley, on her right side. He pretended to watch the screen as advertisements paraded by, glancing surreptitiously in her direction periodically. She grinned to herself, thinking that she might flash an exposed tit at him when they were done. Real risqué, but a hoot anyway.

She jumped slightly when he leaned in too close to her and asked if she knew someone by the name of Candy Blaze, the stench of his breath strong at so close quarters. She told him that she had never even heard of her and said "excuse me". Turning her back towards him, she quite deliberately put him out of her mind, giggling and sharing looks of disdain between themselves. Still laughing they left their seats, knowing they had at least five more minutes before the feature started, and to a last trip to the bathroom.

Kathy was telling Shirley about Timothy Rally putting his hand on her ass in algebra class as they returned to their seats. While they discussed the quality of Tim's attention they both noticed that the old man was still sitting in the seat beside theirs. Glancing around the darkening theater they could see there were no other open seats so they decided to ignore the senior citizen and just enjoy the movie.

The screen lit up with previews as another man, a younger version of the old fart to their right, entered the theater and sat down in the seat right next to Kathy. The nasty aroma of body odor instantly invaded their senses, as well as some underlying odor Shirley thought she recognized but she couldn't quite place what it was. A strong sense of fear suddenly washed over her. The familiar odor, almost like a rancid Pine sol, or some other kind of stringent cleaner was strong, almost overwhelming, but the exact name of the cleanser escaped her. Her mom has a similar product at home. She didn't think she could sit through the movie and enjoy it with this terrible smell so she decided they would move and try to find another seat anyway.

Having finally decided to move away from him, even if it meant sitting separately, they started to get up out of their seats. Suddenly the man placed his trembling, dirty hand, with it's long, dirty, nasty fingernails on her shoulder, holding her down and whispered menacingly, "Don't get up or even move. Say anything to draw attention to us, and I'll break your shoulder out of it's socket". Shirley gulped, Kathy hadn't noticed that there was a problem yet. "I have come for you, little princess, and since you are not alone, we'll take your friend with us too."

Shirley glanced desperately about and noticed that not one of the patrons of the theater were noticing them, their attention was on the giant screen. Not one person seemed to see the man who was bothering them. His fingers were digging painfully into her arm and she was afraid to move. She remembered feeling a stinging on her right arm, just above the elbow and looked down to see what looked like a syringe coming away from her arm, she could actually feel the effects of some vile drug being pumped through her body from where they were put into her arm, and though she was fighting hard to stay awake and keep alert, the world began to swirl anyway, and the hubbub of the theater gradually faded away into darkness. As the darkness enveloped her mind, the thought occurred to her that perhaps she should scream, but that might have been only in her head.

Cognizance slowly coaxed her back to an awakened state and her awareness of her predicament returned. Shirley had no way of knowing how long she'd been unconscious, and as she regained consciousness, she wondered how she'd ended up in this nasty, dismal place, and mostly the question was why. The door was locked when she had tried it, of course, shaking the door knob violently, screaming at the top of her lungs for someone to let her out. She glanced around the little room quickly as though the might be an answer in the air, and was not surprised to see that there were no windows. Plenty of movies she'd seen showed these fantastic ways of escaping fantastic enclosures, but none of them would come to mind now that she needed only one. Disgusted by what she felt as she ran her hands along the dark wall, she cried out the name of her best friend; Kathy, and upon receiving no reply, realized that she was alone.

Grogginess fought to stay settled in her head, an affect certainly of the shot she'd received from the stranger. Shirley swayed a little at first, but she finally managed to stand own two legs, and she slowly started circling the perimeter of her tiny prison once more, and then again. This time on her feet, and again, hoping to find a chink in the defenses of her prison but she discovered shelves of canned goods, but no way out. She sat back down on the floor so hard she hurt her ass, so she began to cry. Sitting with her back against the wall, head butting against the lower shelves, she rubbed her eyes with her fists, and bawled with what felt like a deep gut of ancestral quality, as a little toddler might when realizing the candy isn't coming.

Shirley cried herself to sleep, dozing fitfully between bouts of crying for help and sobbing, while beginning to feel sorry for herself. She helped herself to a helping of self pity, still mentally complaining 'cause she couldn't accept that horrible odor that filled the air in this place. It totally reeked of the some rancid, decaying matter from god knows what. Or, just maybe there was something dead near by. She shuttered and slumped back against the wall, forcing herself to breath in short, shallow breaths to keep from gagging and loosing what little there was left in her stomach. She was reminded that she hadn't eaten since dinner with the Stones earlier in the day; and the little bit of candy at the theater, just before she met her fate as a kidnapped victim.

Ruth and Kathy Stone's home had become a regular hang out place for Shirley and she was pretty sure that her mother and, of course Mrs. Stone, were trying to find them. She was certain that her mom was beside herself with worry, but she had no way she knew of to communicate with her and let her know, that so far she was alright.

**3**

Crimson was an odd sort of fellow and was becoming increasing so in Carol's eyes. A completely weird old black man, kind of scary and creepy, was what Carol was thinking. She tried her best to not let it show. He had literally come from out of nowhere and he knew way too much about her dilemma. Besides, he offered to help, but after spending a couple of hours talking with this weird shaman about everything to do with Shirley and Kathy, he still discussing subjects like space and oneness, and she was becoming annoyed.

_How can any of this mumbo-jumbo be of any help with getting the girls back? _She'd thought. She'd actually been trying to practice this strange ritual that Crim taught her. He had called it spirit touching, and though she was confused at first, she thought she was slowly learning the technique. Carol was beginning to actually feel something of an understanding. She still didn't see what it had to do with getting her daughter back.

She reached out with her spirit again, just as he'd instructed her to. Pretty sure that she had actually felt Shirley's presence, more than a little bit. She could tell that her daughter was alright for the moment (at least in a physical sense).

Sure! She knew that Shirley was a prisoner and was being held against her will. She'd known that already. And, she could tell, also, that Shirley was alone and that Kathy must have been held in another room somewhere. Try as she might, she couldn't feel Kathy's presence at all and Ruth was not getting the Spirit Touch thing. Carol surmised that it must be because Kathy wasn't part of her family. Maybe that was why she could not feel her. Crim had said that family was the first connection of the spirit and that made a certain kind of sense to her. But, she still didn't see how this was going to help her in anyway as far as something she could do.

**4**

Shirley lay her head on her folded arms, crossed loosely over her raised knees, and allowed her fears to penetrate and encompass her, swallowing her completely by the events of the previous evening and the realization dawns that she has no control over what is happening to her. No control at all. Her thoughts were hard to make sense of, sort of jumbled together and partial. She was pretty certain that what ever drug the old bastard had used on her was keeping her head muddied. Her frustration crested into a mild panic as she realized that she couldn't find a way out of her predicament.

Quite suddenly a thought of hope surfaced in her mind, seemingly out of nowhere, she mentally sees her mother, smiling encouragingly at her from the inner screen of her mind. She determined that she would push right through this ordeal and eventually come out in the end, triumphant over this evil. Repeatedly she tells herself that she has to keep a positive attitude. Then she started as she heard a series of muffled cries.

All of the thoughts in her head completely disappear leaving cold emptiness and a silent brooding, as the interruption by a shrill scream coming from a distance not very far away. The scream doesn't sound like a scream of pain, rather more like a scream of fear. The young voice sounded scared, extremely frightened. Shirley shivered. Involuntary shaking, her body trembles as she realizes the voice she heard was not Kathy's. _How many others are there? _She wonders.

The second scream is sharper, more of a shriek, obviously a cry unintended as escape to a threatened pain becomes impossible. The last scream, however, is a scream of mortal surrender. Shirley is certain she had heard someone whose life is was in dire need of rescue, but she knows rescue is not close at hand. Horrible visions; victims of mayhem and madness filling a chamber of indistinguishable size fills her head. All hope of escape seems lost, as irretrievable as youth itself, again at that moment, tears well up in her eyes. She's scared! She has never been so scared in all of her life. She wanted her Mom!

Wanting to hide, but having no where she could go, not even a small cot to crawl under a quiet desperation grows. She willed herself to no avail, to be invisible and tried desperately to shrink herself down to nothing, but when the door suddenly burst open, a bright light from the hallway temporarily striking her eyes, blinding her, she saw a dark figure silhouetted against the light, slumped at the shoulder and she noticed he would not look at her face. Would not look into her eyes. But, she was sure her time had come.

She shrank back, pushing herself hard against the corner of the floor where it meets the wall, wedged herself painfully under the lowest shelf, desperately trying to push herself through the fucking wall as the shadow entered the doorway of the small pantry. Adjusting to the brilliant light, her eyes began picking up details as they began to fill in features of the figure, a middle aged hillbilly, possibly one of the men who drugged her at the theater and dragged her here, standing in the light of the threshold, twitching nervously as he appears to wait for something exciting he'd been expecting to happen, or perhaps he was just nervous that someone might come and catch him. Shirley wasn't sure why he suddenly appeared, or what he wanted, but the suspense wasn't killing her. The moments seemed to drag on into what seemed like forever, as she waited for the him to come and do what he had in mind. And get it over with.

Candace Telfair was the name of the captive just down a few doors from the cubicle Shirley was in. She is a fourteen year old girl of fair complexion and blonde hair, a grade level above her own. Shirley had seen her from time to time but they never formally met. Candace lay on the floor of her cubicle, in a sprawl while she clutched at her stomach, feeling the slick flow of blood, watching with a look of disbelief on her face as her life's blood seeped steadily and slowly onto the floor, dripping from the cut in the skin of her stomach. It is a surprise to her that she can feel no pain, despite the crimson line now spoiling the flat plane of her tummy. In a storage room much like the one Shirley is in, only a couple of doors down from her, Candace feels ashamed of crying out. She'd sworn she would not do that, but the surprise and the swiftness of the assault had drawn the screams unbidden from her mouth, even before she realized what she was doing.

Now, she was convinced that she waited for her death. The old Grim Reaper coming to claim her for real and not like in some horror movie, and to take her, finally, away from this decrepit room and her miserable life. A place where she'd been held captive for at least a week's worth of days, a place where she'd been used and beaten, time has ceased to mean much to her now. A place where she'd been tortured and raped by the monstrosity who held her here and his brother. Something always interrupts them, and she is always afraid that there is someone else who is in charge. It scared the younger brother that he'd cut her and left her scarred. He slammed the door and ran out when he realized that Chester would beat him if he found out, and he was sure that he would.

Only fourteen years old and precocious in the extreme, she was a wild child who had little respect for home. She hated her mother, and somehow believed she is a direct result of something she'd done. As a routine, she spent a lot of time with her boy friend; Jake. Jake and her had gone all the way already. A least couple of times. So she was somewhat accustomed to the sexual experience, she'd regularly spent nights with him and repeatedly ignored her mother's warnings and admonitions about waiting until they were married. Sheesh!

The dark outline of shadow slowly creeped into the room where Shirley was crunched up beneath a shelf, marking the sun's journey through the sky. He was still held the knife in his hand. In the bright light behind him, his white cotton shirt and blue dungarees were evident. He held the blade out from his body, pointed in her direction, she supposed it was so the dark liquid dripping from it wouldn't get on his clothes, or drop on his shoes. And the blade looked enormous to Shirley, long enough to go clean through her thin body. She couldn't help but shiver with a deep fear as he leaned against the door jam. Her eyes, adjusting to the sudden infusion of light, could see that his expression was one of fright and worry. She looked again at the sharp implement in his hand and could not take her eyes off of it. As she could see the awful drip of liquid off the tip of the blade. Possibly the blood of her friend; Kathy, she cringed. She might be next and it distressed her that her best friend was probably dead. She would never have the time to forget the splotches she saw as they seemed to appear from nowhere when they landed on the dirty floor and spread out in a small splat. There was the slick reflection of light as it shone in her eyes, ricocheting off the spots, the sound of the thick spattering as drops finished their fall on the dirty tiles of the floor. The bright red color of crimson, reflected from the scant light coming from the partially opened door.

Shirley cringed and screamed as the pervert stared at her vulnerable position and closed her eyes tight in an insane effort to make herself smaller and smaller. Invisible!

Danny Brooks


	5. Perspective

Chapter Four

Perspective

**1**

"There are spirits!?"

Carol developed a cynical expression.

"Spirits without physical bodies, I mean." Crimson clarified. "They are all about us, all the time and, I must caution you, not all of them are friendly. Most of them are benign and harmless, but some of them can be rather nasty, tenacious buggers while many have no feelings of remorse or sorrow for their behavior; what you might call a conscious. The thing to remember is that they can only do what they are allowed to do, though. Some have no brotherly love in their being for the likes of us. I mean us as humans. They do have fears though, and one of those things they fear are beings such as myself. I have many friends, and dwell only as spirits (without bodies) who are on my side and who aid me in my endeavors. I would like you to meet them when you are ready and I want you to become closely acquainted with them. To this end I will introduce a few of my 'spirit' friends to you and I want you to see them as they are."

Crim reached a wrinkled hand toward her and explained the she needed to lower her head toward him, almost like a bow.

Carol bent tentatively and nervously forward. Ruth watched, also a bit nervously.

"Esen is a very close friend of mine. He is an ancient spirit who has taken a manifested form only on few and very special occasions. Esen is loyal and, sometimes, he's quite a useful ally. Also, there is Excomo. A spirit with a feminine aura. A spirit who likes to make tiny adjustments to the physical manifestations and often takes whatever events are happening in a direction of helpful development for me." Crim turned to the two ladies who were listening raptly to his every word. He reached out and touched Carol's extended head on the left temple. The two ladies stared, wide open mouths held open by surprise and disbelief, as Carol's eyes widened in wonder.

"I have never believed in spirits." Carol said, disappointment clearly etched across her face, a tear slowly spilled from her eye. She felt engulfed by a feeling of inspired and empowered euphoria. Body slightly quaking, she stared wide eyed with wonder at the apparitions which slowly materialized and presented themselves.

"Yeah! I was always taught that spirits were evil and in collusion with the Devil." Ruth could not yet see the spirits before her, yet her discomfort was palpable. She joined in the conversation, with obvious disdain and trepidation. Ruth never lacked any conviction as she spoke. No hint of doubt, no pinch of cynicism.

"Your beliefs are important only to you and depending on them is not necessary. It is true that there are spirits in the world who are malevolent and they naturally have no love for what is right and\or what is holy. There is some things in particular which you need to learn, however. One of them is that there is only one spirit, and that spirit manifests itself as all of these living beings. We all exist through sentiency and though we don't see it naturally, we are all spirits within the physical realm, and in physical bodies. There is, in actuality, no division between worlds. The physical and the spiritual are different levels, or realms of the same worlds. We perceive the world through our eyes, ears and all of the physical senses which comes with our body. The world of the spirit, though, is seen without the eyes and heard without the ears and felt without the benefit of a nervous system. It is the deepest reality experienced when we've learned to be still and be aware of the great silence. It is this perception that I am here to teach you both and this will help bring about the safety and well being of Shirley and Kathy, for they are being held captive by some very bad individuals who truly embody what you probably would call 'evil'.

"Secondly, there is a connection between yourself and every other being (physical or spiritual) which manifests itself in this universe, including the deluded souls who have your daughters in their hands. I am here to teach you how to find and how to strengthen that connection. It is this connection that allows you to feel what happens to your daughter, or any other member of your family. Your family, by the way, is much larger than you could ever have suspected. It is very strong when it is felt within the bloodline, the very essence of your family and it is this connective power which led me to you at this time of need. Your ancestors are still with us, your loved ones who have passed on are around you always and are able to assist you in ways you haven't been aware of until now." Crim smiled gently and sat for moments in silence.

Time passed as a silent spirit, the elongated pause; reflective.

"I don't know how to respond to you!" Carol said quietly. "You come into my home during a family crisis. Offer us hope and then you speak of things that I can't comprehend and talk of stuff that I clearly don't understand."

Ruth stood quietly and remained silent, eyeing Crim with suspicious, yet hopeful, eyes and a troubled heart. Surprisingly she understood so much of what the old man was saying.

Time has moved on and the shadows of the evening begin to crawl across the lawn. Carol's house has seen the worst day of her life as it comes to an end. Although, she knows the day is far from over, perhaps the toughest part is yet to come.

**2**

The golden light bathing the side of the silver elm, struggles desperately against the onset of darkness as the evening approaches, it shone majestically in oranges, reds and scarlet, coloring the clouded sky with a blanket of beauty as Bob pulled his Lexus into their drive. He is nervous, drunk and in a bad mood. Guilt haunts him, giving him a fluttering stomach, as he prepares for the onslaught of anger he suspects will come from Carol, rehearsing all the things he wanted to say to her. Perhaps leaving that morning when she was so distraught wasn't the smartest move for him. Perhaps he could find a way to come back into her good graces for the night at least until he decided what to do about his affair with Lois. He thought this as he pushed his key into the brass lock of his front door. He'd already spent a few hours at his office. Supposedly getting paper work done, though nothing had actually been accomplished. Then he'd spent a couple of long dragging hours on a stool in Stacy's Pub drinking bourbon until he'd had too much and trying hard to build up the courage he thought he would need to face his wife and he, too, was also worrying over his daughter and what might have happened to her. He supposed that he did, on some level, believe in her premonitions.

Bob reached down with an arm not nearly as strong and steady as it once was, many years have passed since his workout days while a cushy desk job has turned tone to flab, and turned the crystal glass knob adorning his front door. He pushed it open and hesitantly announced a bit too loudly that he was home. After a brief wait, Carol called a welcome from the den, so he walked in that direction, down the hallway and as he entered the den, he wondered why the television wasn't on. That was when Bob noticed his things were packed up and just sitting by the door in a heap of bags and boxes. He looks quizzically at Carol, mouth open in surprise. "You were that mad at me?" He blurted with a slur!

"Yes! I was furious, but not as much now. Actually, I'd completely forgotten that I packed up your stuff. I did have every intention of putting all of your shit on the front stoop, but then I got distracted by the police when they took my report, and this other visitor.

"The police wrote a report which they said they will take seriously sometime tomorrow, after the 24 hour period is up. There is also a visitor here. Someone here to help." Bob nodded absently, thinking the old gentleman was some kind of detective or something. He also noticed with mild surprise that Holly was laying contentedly at this stranger's feet, curled in a furry ball, head resting contentedly on her front paws.

"He's working in our den, performing some kind of ritual. I want you to meet him. He is somewhat peculiar," She paused for a moment, grasping for words to explain, "but it seems that he might be helpful in getting Shirley back." Clearly Carol was struggling with a confusing situation. On one hand she desperately needs help finding Shirley, but on the other hand she isn't sure she can really trust what Bob might think of what she's being told by Crim. And, she worried that he was too drunk to listen.

Upon hearing that some strange ritual was being performed, Bob grew contrite and angry. "What?! You've let a stranger in our house?" Bob shouted a little louder than he'd intended, his anger obvious. He hadn't expected to perform for an audience while he confronted his wife.

"He just showed up at the door and your stuff would have been on the stoop had he not been there. How could you have left me in such a state as I was in this morning?" Bitterness in her voice. Her anger rising naturally to meet his. "At least Crim took an interest in Shirley's disappearance and is making an effort to help." she shouted back.

Bob set his jaw and took a deep breath. He puffed out his chest and turned to confront Crim, whoever he was and was unnerved when he saw how relaxed the an old black man was, while sitting on his couch. "What are you doing in my house, nigger?"

"Bob!" Carol shouted incredulously.

"Stay out of this! Get out of my house this instant." Bob said gruffly.

Crimson sat silently and observed Bob as if he were a new species of new animal life, completely ignoring Bob's questions and his temper. The old man asked Carol as though nothing else at all was happening, "Would you like me to send Esen to check on your daughter?"

Carol had not been prepared for a direct question, especially in the midst of her arguing with an irate and agitated husband standing there. "Uh…Yeah! Sure! Please, anything you can do would be appreciated."

"I don't want you doing anything for us! I want you to leave…now!" Bob reiterated, voice menacing. "We don't need you to do your mumbo jumbo for us. We'll just wait for the police to do their job, if you don't mind."

Crim looked at Bob and his penetrating stare produced an uneasiness. He felt it deep within his soul, his anger growing as the silence punctuated his ego and his situation. The stand off grew into a elongated moment. "Didn't you hear me? I said I could take care of my family without your help."

"Pussy!"

"Wha-at?!" an incredulous whisper.

"You know! You are the one to cause the conditions of this family crisis. It is your balancing spirit which has rendered this situation as it is, and which has consequentially made it occur." Crim said in a low whisper as well. "I will not leave until all things are resolved."

"What is he talking about, Bob? Why does he think this was your doing?" Carol asked. Suddenly she became aware of some hesitation in Bob's demeanor.

The spell was broken when Ruth walked briskly into the den, not knowing what she was interrupting and sat on the old recliner, sitting in the corner of the room. She too, had a confused expression of wonderment on her face, seemingly trying to ponder the meaning of some momentous dilemma.

"What are you still doing here?" Bob enquired briskly. Focusing again on someone besides the old black shaman.

"She has been with me all day and Ruth is the only person who has been sitting with me throughout this whole ordeal so far. That's more than I can say for you, Bob. And what does Crim mean when he says that you caused this situation, BOB!" Carol cried, yelling now.

Bob looked at her and then stared right at Crim, eyes squinting in hatred, "I don't know what he's fucking talking about! I've never seen this man in my life."

"Dissuasion by omission and partial truths. Standard duck, Bob." said Crimson with a slight, polite smile, perhaps even a little smug. "It is not for me to trust or not trust you or tell what I know or don't know. It is for you to be honorable and open. Can you do that, Bob? It is time to stand up and be a true man."

**3**

Shirley cringed as the shadow of the man staggered drunkenly, as he stood at the door for several minutes. The odor of strong liquor permeated the room and details were difficult to distinguish. His hand still held that bloody, dripping knife, his fingers wrapped tightly around the hilt, tight enough to make his knuckles white, slight tremor in his hand. Shirley thought that she'd never seen a knife so large as this one. To her, it looked very large and she could see the keenly sharp edge. The man grinned, leering lasciviously at her as he moved from the shadows towards her, a trail of drool dripping to the floor. Disgustedly, a sickened Shirley involuntarily turned away and shivered involuntarily. His eyes roamed her body and his leer intensified. "'member dis young purty. I'll be back, shortly." he slurred suggestively. She pushed her back deeper into the wall, willing herself to stop her shivering, after seeing the reaction she was getting from this dirty old man. She was scared! As scared as she'd ever been. She was hungry, too! And God, she had to go pee, but she didn't dare say anything like that to this mother fucker. She closed her eyes and prayed real hard that this guy not to hurt her.

The man abruptly turned and simply left. She her him locking the door and snickering as he ambled away from the door. Shirley let out the breath she'd been holding with a sigh of relief. She wondered, and not for the first time, what she was going to do. She sure didn't like the way he had looked at her. The darkness permeating the room seemed deeper now that the door had been opened and closed again. Her eyes had not yet adjusted to it. The silence was deafening as well. She could hear her own heartbeat as it pulsed through her veins. She was really tired of sitting in this filthy room. She squatted in a far corner, filled with despair, and relieved herself, quietly. The sound of the liquid as it hit the floor was louder than she thought it would be, but the feeling of relief was exquisite.

**4**

Darkness of a disturbing intensity filled the little cubicle that Kathy found herself in, but even still, it wasn't as scary for her as in might have been. She liked darkness. Always had. She found a certain comfort in it. She was frightened, though. There was something about the dude who took them that stood out in her mind. She worried over what he might do to herself or Shirley and wondered where her friend was and how it came to be that she was here in this separate room. Feeling hungry and tired, Kathy fretted and screamed out into the air, primarily to let off the pressure, but partially also, because she'd been badly frightened when the deathly silence was broken by the screams which seemed to still ring in her ears. The intensity of the screams was frightening and the pain and terror of them gave her the willies. She knew for sure she was in some pretty deep shit, otherwise she would be having a blast from the excitement of something actually happening. So far though, nobody had so much as acknowledged that she was here, much less fed her and let her go to the bathroom. She had to go badly and never thought to go as Shirley had. She'd been holding it for what seemed hours.

**5**

Candace Telfair lay still, glad to be able to acknowledge that there was an aching pain in her abdomen, for it tells her that she is still alive. God, he'd scared the shit out of her. She was so sure it was done. Pounding, her heart was beating loudly against her chest; the severe pain that ran up her arm when he twisted it; and the groping hand that felt her up through her short dress. Maybe, she should have listened to her mother's concerns for her attire choices. Imprisoned in this tiny room, now for almost a week. Famished because she had only been fed four or five times, offered a little water a couple of times a day, but this was the first time someone had actually touched her and tried to hurt her, had in fact, stabbed her with a knife! There seemed to be a lot of blood, but most of it had dried, and her wound was no longer running. A lot of time had elapsed for her since the dude with the shortage of smarts bent over her, fondling and handling her so roughly. She'd only asked for some food, and he'd said I should be afraid of getting too hungry. He would be glad to take care of her need to drink some water. He brought her a small paper cup with warm water in it and she drank it greedily. She was just afraid of what he might do to her. He had that look about him. She knew that he was dangerous.

Scoot, who kept thinking about the girl in the storage barn, knew he would be in trouble and had waited all day long for his brother to discover what he'd done. He'd liked the way she felt through that dress she wore, though. So silky and fine feeling, a dream of such ecstasy and pleasure, he was sorely tempted.

Scotty James was the name he'd been christened with by a mother he didn't remember, but Scoot was the name he'd been given by his school mates for the short time he'd gone to school and one he'd always gone by. He really hadn't meant to scare the little woman child, but she'd made him mad when she'd screamed out the first time, just because he'd grabbed her arm. He told her to be quiet and be still or he would hurt her, but she wouldn't listen. The second scream, however, had hurt his ears so he instinctively and totally involuntarily poked her a little bit with the tip of knife which he'd grabbed from the kitchen. And that had produced that third and final scream. He retreated immediately and took himself and his knife and just left, locking the door behind him and just walking away.

Naturally he'd checked the next storage bin, seeing one of the new girls. A pretty little blonde thing with a hard body that just wouldn't quit. How he'd love to check that out. She had stared at the knife in my hand and been really scared. She started shaking in spite of her effort to be still, and she had looked so damn sexy when her body had tensed up like that. But alas, Scoot had chores to do, and a fuck up he had to cover. Scoot would be damned if he was going to get beat again by his big brother; Chester. _Just because he was the oldest, didn't mean he had a right to_ _be the boss_ he thought. Still, he could not get that pretty little girl out of his mind and he fantasized about her all day long as he worked. "'member this young purty. I'll be back, shortly."

**6**

The expression on Bob's face was incredulous. He was tired of defending himself, especially to an old black man he'd never met and didn't really know. Not only that, but his own wife as well. Bob felt his control over his own temper letting go, and he decided in his heart that he was going to physically grab the old son of a bitch and just eject the old bastard with whatever force it took. Anything to just get him out of the house. But, the old codger was quick and agile, slippery as an eel. Easily blocking and evading, countering any approach that Bob made toward him. Frustration at every angle, anger growing exponentially, loosing all control of his own baser nature. Could this really be happening in his own home?

More exasperating than anything else, was the calm, cool manner in which the old man evaded and countered as he confronted him at every turn. Every attempt thwarted. Temper finally getting the best of him, Bob suddenly threw a straight left jab at Crim's face, his best move, intending to throw an uppercut and knock him out and ridding his house of this intruder. That was the plan, and after knocking him senseless with his fist, he would then come up with a plan for retrieving his daughter from where ever this old codger had her. However, to Bob's surprise, Crim caught his fastest fist as though it was an paper airplane and it felt to Bob as if he'd hit a block wall. His entire arm shuttered and his entire left side felt numb, his shoulder sending a sharp pain up through his neck from the impact.

Shrugging off the soreness, Bob, again swings his right fist this time, straight at Crim's teeth and finds the same impenetrable wall, with the exact same results. If he'd hit a stone boulder with all of his might he would have felt the same sensation as he did when he was caught by the hand of this strange man. Bob, infuriated, stomped angrily from the den and began to pace the living room in an agitated fashion.

Crim comes into the living room and stands calmly, awaiting an acknowledgement from Bob. Bob stops his pacing and glares at Crim, his face morphing from obstinacy to shame, and then to abhorrence. A person of remorse and compliance.

Calmly, Crim begins to speak, "I know of your indiscretions and I know of your turmoil due to dealing with the dual path you try to walk. I cannot speak for you, nor am I your tattler. You must work out your own path. However, I can always offer a word of assistance. So to speak!"

Bob cover his face with is hands.

**7**

A small watt light bulb flickered on and off, as a light, of a sort, flooded the cubicle with a blinking, metered flash of medium light while Shirley's pupils shrank and quivered from the assault, blinded partially by the light and also frightened by the sudden appearance of the variegated vision, she pressed herself further back against the wall, though in reality there was no further. She moved away from the door, expecting once again today, for someone to enter. No one did, and after a while of unanswered suspense, she wondered exactly where the switch to that infernal light must be. No visible switch appeared to be visible on any of the walls in this room. Shirley concluded that the switch must be on the wall outside of the room. She did not, nor could not know that the electricity had ceased due to a black out in their area. Scoot had left the switch in the on position when he'd checked it earlier, so it remained in the on position after the black out occurred and now, evidently it was back on. At least, she had the benefit of some light, feeble as it may be.

Her eyes adjusted gradually to the light and she had the realization that the small bulb was of a lower wattage, perhaps no more than fifty watts. The dimness of the light only seemed obvious after she had become accustomed to the light. She quickly looked around the perimeter of the room and was surprised to see that the shelving on the upper half of the walls was filled with cans and assorted jars of food. Overcome by desperation, Shirley began grabbing items off the shelf, a couple of jars (she didn't care what they contained) smashed on the floor, breaking off the lids. Ignoring the cuts appearing on her hands and the sharp pain she felt, she crammed a mouthful of canned peaches in her mouth and savored the taste of food. She couldn't believe she was so hungry. She jumped in surprise when the light went out and the door opened.

Two shadowy figures appeared, two men standing in the open doorway. One was older, she thought maybe it was he who'd been in the theater. The younger one looked enough like the older one that it was clear to her they were brothers. The older of the two scowled angrily and in an agitated voice berated the younger.

The older man staggered over to where she had pushed herself into the wall again and grabbed a hand full of her hair, pulling Shirley up by her hair and smiled wickedly as she winced and cried out, "I'm sorry mister." Her voice quavering as she keened and wailed. He didn't loosen his grip, not one bit. Nor did he acknowledge her as a person at all. Instead he continued to berate the younger man for allowing the light to come on and letting her break open some of their food stores. He roughly instructed the one he'd call 'Scoot' to clean up this mess, the broken jar and the scattered glass. And bring some food for their guests.

"Haven't you been feeding them?" Chester asked with growing anger. Scoot had called him that, whining about the blackout and that it wasn't his fault.

"Yeah. I been feeding them. Not regularly, but some." Scoot sounded contrite and submissive. "I have a lot of chores to do and I don't always have a lot of time for feeding these girls." Chester swiftly slapped Scoot with a resounding thwack. He continued to berate uninterrupted and seemed not to notice that Scoot was holding his hand up to where he'd been slapped.

"I want water and food brought down to everyone of the bins and I want it done now! They aren't any good to us if they've starved to death. They won't bring much money if they're just skin and bones." Chester admonished as they slammed the door, after roughly pushing Shirley to the floor and finally letting go of her hair, some strands loosely clinging to his hand.

She heard them moving down the corridor to the other cubicles. She could hear Chester continue yelling at Scoot non-stop. The whole time she concluded that he was inspecting his prisoners very closely, for she heard another slap, when he discovered that one of his charges had been a fresh cut on her formerly smooth belly. A cut obviously done with a knife. "Goddamnit! Now we have to call in the doctor and have him examine her." He exclaimed. "What were you doing fooling around down here? Do you know what our buyer would do if he saw the way you were handling his cargo?"

"I just came down here to feed them, just as you told me to. But this one started screaming as soon as I touched her and scared me. I didn't mean to cut her. It was an accident." Scoot pleaded. "I'll go get some food and water right now, Chester. I won't bother them again, 'til you say so." Shirley thought he sounded a little retarded.

**8**

Carol followed Bob into the living room and could not hide her exasperation from him. "I want to know what he was talking about." She yelled.

"How the hell should I know? I don't understand what he's doing here, or why you are defending him. As far as you know, he could be one of the fiends who has our daughter. He has certainly driven a wedge between us. Hasn't he?"

"No, Bob. You did that when you left and went to work, when I specifically asked you to stay." Carol was crying and trying to calm herself. "No demands have been made by anyone, and nobody has called regarding any ransom, or anything."

"That's TV stuff, Carol. Who knows what their agenda might be, or why this has happened." They argued, spitting words and phrases of anger at each other and seemingly getting nowhere. Carol threw her hands up in despair and screamed inarticulately.

**9**

Crim drifted in smoothly and with a calm manner picked up a cushion off of a chair, laid it on the floor sat between them, ignoring the sofa and other chairs. He crossed his legs in an meditative like fashion and carefully laid his ornate staff gently across his knees, so that the staff was parallel to his girth and the floor. He began mumbling strange words in a language not familiar to them and to the astonishment of them both, a blue pin-point of light began to glow and grow on the area of floor just before his lap. The pin-point of light steadily increased its size until there was a large area of bright blue shining steadfastly on the entire floor of their living room. Without any hesitation he intoned, "Carol. Please step into the light." He instructed her to remain calm and steady and to forget the argument she was presently engaged in.

Carol observed the edge of the blueness as it crept steadily across the floor, nervously, she stepped into the enlightened area and surprise bloomed within her heart as she felt a calmness rushing completely through her body and encompassing her mind. A extremely pleasant sensation of a relaxed state of clarity and understanding infused her and a sudden realization that Crimson was the real thing took shape within her mind. Her trust in his abilities grew to a completed state as she turned to her husband and a beatific smile blossomed on her face. "Shirley is in trouble but she'll be returned to us and everything will work out." These words fell from her mouth unbidden and she covered it with her hand, shocked at her outburst.

"How could you know that?" Bob smirked.

"Just step into the light and you will see." She replied.

But before he could take that step, Crim calmly held up his hand and in a serious voice, whispered, "This is not the time yet for you to see yourself. There is a certain balance you need to attain first. No disrespect intended." He turned then to Ruth, who shivered with doubt and worry. He instructed her to step also into the light which she did and experienced similar results as Carol.

"I don't understand." Bob murmured.

"That's a good start. Let's just say it's a matter of perspective." Crim muttered in a low voice.

Danny Brooks


	6. Changes

Chapter Five

Changes

**1**

A deep blueness of mystical light bloomed on the floor of the den in Carol's house. She felt her spirit become infused with its power and a certain mindfulness settled in her. Crim continued his instruction, "We all travel through eternity as focal points of several types of energy, changing vehicles and taking form, yet always walking down the path that life presents us." He paused for a moment, collecting his thoughts, she felt. He finally continued. "All things are related to each other's very existence and they each also share a deeply harmonic purpose." He glanced pointedly at Carol. "Your being is not only part of the suchness of things, but you are also the ever changing essence of life itself, mixing and taking on a new and differing form with the apparent passage of time. Part of the very resonance of life.

"There is no age that can really be placed on the spirit which you are, only an age of the particular form you are taking as an aid to the spiritual needs you have. The true nature of your existence is found within the blue light of pure spiritual energy," he pointed at the lake of light at their feet, "which animates us all and provides the very vehicle which we call our 'body'.

Rose, still standing in the initial place she'd stepped, marveled at the feelings which coursed through her body, listening intently to every word Crim spoke. "Each individual is an aspect of the single spirit, much as a facet of a highly polished diamond is only a small fraction of the jewel in which it resides." As Crim spoke, the blue area on the floor of the living room in the dwelling of the Pennington home continued growing and now covered the entire room and had spread to almost three quarters of the house. It stopped growing just before it reached the place where Bob stood and detoured around him, leaving him standing in the only spot where no light would touch.

"I guess I'm not worthy." Bob muttered sarcastically, disdain showing clearly in his tone of voice. "Sorry I don't live up to your expectations."

"There are no expectations. You have some conflicting and confusing issues with your own honor, and you only need clear up these issues. It is your own insecurities which prevent the touch of the pure spirit." Crim remarked, not unkindly. His expression was one of pity. "None of these things I speak of are unknown, they are all scientifically sound and conform to what has been revealed through ages of study and observation. The pure state of spirit which spills ever now on your floor is the same essence which we all share, the essence of our deepest selves, despite the delusions created by the illusive sentience of our existence as creatures.

"Know that nothing is ever what it seems, and nothing is answered by intellectual persistence as knowledge is not the beginning of wisdom. Our ancestors, and all that they have to tell us, leads us to the point of open stillness and the balance between stillness and movement, light and darkness. Neither being the stronger of the other. This is only to say that I am guided here for you and it is my purpose to lead you through the difficult and harrowing journey which is your life. Carol, despite what you might think, loves you and will accept whatever you are. I, of course, will say nothing to your wife about your indiscretions, though you need to come to grips with your own self worth and your own personal sense of honor. I am here to help you do just that." Crim spoke as though he knew more than he was telling, leaving Bob to wonder. What was really going on?

"So what has really happened to Shirley and Kathy then?" Bob asked, finally realizing that something in fact was truly going on. A small modem of shame began to grow and he wondered if there was an escape from the trap he'd allowed himself to be in.

"For certain they are being held captive, Bob. And it may possibly have something to do with what you are into." Crim said, a certainty, a look of hidden knowledge shown in his expression and Bob saw as conviction and sincerity there which, for him, was surprising and unexpected and it added to his feeling of guilt.

**2**

Chester sat quietly, leaning forward in his chair, slumped dejectedly at the dinner table and stirring around the uninteresting contents as he contemplated his tasteless plate of food. He wasn't hungry, he felt a bit sick, but he knew he had to eat. His demeanor was agitated and he wondered why it was taking so long for the blasted phone call, telling him what to do with his wards and what was on the agenda for them. He picked at his plate in a distracted way as he worried also over his younger brother, Scoot. Knowing that it was only a matter of time before Scoot became a bigger problem. The girls being kept captive in the storage units that sat at the edge of his property were nothing but trouble and had better be worth the money he was expecting from the arrangement made with Randy. This huge parcel of land where his farm sat was his inheritance, amounting to a little more than fifty acres of rolling hills and lush deciduous tree groups, a small scattering of evergreens standing stately among them, bordered by the North Anna River and home to his small, but growing herd of cattle, and the small truck garden where he grew vegetables.

His father; Horace Grimly, left The Grimly farm to him and his brother in his will. It was a stately plot of land with beautiful green rolling hills and a few patches of oak and pine, situated at the edge of the piedmont hills of Virginia just a couple of miles to the southeast of the small town of Brookneal, situated near the southern central area of the state. Farmers, factory workers and merchants ranged the nearby countryside and were homes to their neighbors. Among these neighbors were families whose lives had been interwoven into a tapestry of suffrage, a tale of great losses and many painful tragedies, a history of bloodshed and misery only owners of land can appreciate. Following orders was a habit he learned from his younger days when he was in the Army and it was as natural as breathing for him to be obedient to those he saw as his superiors. Chester had eagerly done his duty and had driven to the local theater on main street and had captured the Pennington girl and her friend. Her friend was there with her and of course she was taken as well, for they were always together, most of their friends said they were inseparable. Sitting at his inherited desk with his new laptop he taps on his keyboard with two index fingers as he logs into his e-mail account and marvels over a devise which mostly escapes his aptitude, shown only how to navigate through specific programs designed for his mentor's use and schooled by himself through trial and error exclusively. Checking his e-mail account showed that he has a message from a man he has come to fear, and respect. He is surprised and somewhat relieved that there is a message is waiting for him.

Chester opened the message and finds it is indeed from Randolph Steele. A man he considered his a friend and co-worker for a while, a contact from the main hub of the organization he works for and which has made him a wealthy man far in excess of his wildest dreams and far from anything his tiny inherited farm could ever have generated. The message was brief and some of the words were above his educated level, but he got the jest of it.

Chester; Have package ready for interrogation within twenty four hours. Merchandise should be untouched and in prime condition. Leverage is of the utmost importance, as this determines the extent of our financial agreement. $20,000.00 has been deposited into your account for your services, expect communiqué in a couple of hours as to where and when our business can take place.

Chester smiled brightly as he knew what twenty thousand dollars meant for him and his brother; Scoot, reminding him to check on what Scoot was up to and it was no surprise that he again found his brother down at the storage units. He was holding her down, clutching her arms tightly with big calloused hands; a trembling, frightened girl, whimpering and screeching. He was trying his best to calm her down. He tried to hold both of her arms with one of his hands, still attempting to feel her young flesh, his hands searching around her body. The young girl was putting up too much of a struggle and she was a bit much for him. He was just beginning to get a grip on her and her struggling began to diminish as he held her hands tightening up on her slim wrists with one hand. Her breasts had popped free from her blouse and he ogled them as he eagerly reached down to feel her lower body parts when a hand came out of nowhere and grabs his shoulder, yanking him back out of the shed. He turns quickly in time to meet a swinging backhand which smashes roughly and abruptly across his mouth, drawing a bead of blood instantly from his lip. "I TOLD YOU TO LEAVE THE GODDAMBED GIRLS ALONE!" Chester shouted.

Putting her forearms over her exposed, budding breasts, while trying desperately to pull her clothes back into place, attempting to cover her exposed groin, as tears streamed down her cheeks. Shirley felt overwhelmed as disgust and self pity overcame her, her shaking body involuntarily pushing itself as far away from the two arguing men as possible, crawling on her hands like an upside down spider, thankful at how closely she'd escaped the experience of being handled by Scoot. Buttons had been pulled loose on her blouse and her left breast hurt from being pinched and squeezed. Thankful that the older man, Chester, had come just when he did and had pulled his ogre of a brother off of her, for she had been in real trouble there for a moment, as it was clear what Scoot had had in mind.

Chester slammed the door shut and she was glad to be alone in the darkness of her cubicle. Her mind now filled with thoughts of her parents and she wondered if, and when, they might be finding ways of rescuing her. She was aware that a riff had formed between her mom and dad and somehow she considered that it might be all her fault. She vows silently to herself that if she ever gets out of this predicament, she will make every effort to bring them back together again. Her dad doesn't seem like the same man he used to be. They'd spent lots of time together when she was little but the man who was her loving father and mentor had withdrawn, no longer teaching her the many things he'd used to talk to her about as a child. Somehow he'd lost that glow he had then and she couldn't help but wonder why.

**3**

The horizon seemed lost in the glow of the evening sunset, the haze to the west ushering in a storm in their direction. Crimson faced squarely the on coming gale as he sat deep in a meditative state. His awareness of his spiritual power drawing a strength within himself, developing the essential energies which surrounded him into a force of chi. Aware of the spirit of life, coursing through the myriad forms it had taken, helped in the building of his own personal power reserve. He knew that his friend, Esen, would be returning soon with the answer he'd been waiting for all that afternoon. Information was coming and its carrier brought news of a farm not far from where he was now seated. His spirit traveled from his body as his essence calmly rose from his body in its seated posture and arrived at the Grimly Estate at the speed of thought. In an instant he knew where the girls were and how they were being kept, and was not surprised to see that they were not being cared for very well. He briefly touched the ground before each of the girls, and a blue energy began to spread before them within their small enclosures.

Returning to his poor body, he picked up his staff, rose from his sitting and strode towards the road and on to his next destination. Born of water and moving as the substance he is, the world dissolved into the dark stillness of home as he communed with the spirits who do his bidding. Esen materialized before him and gave his detailed report and the truth of the situation became instantly evident to Crimson. For him, his spirit essence resides in the emptiness of transcendence; his body being a sentient existence and nothing more. The question which arose in the mind of Crim was one of choosing the correct action. How shall I proceed and what order of business do I carry out? With this thought in mind he heads toward the Grimly parcel of land and wonders what sort of physical circumstance he will find there.

**4**

Shirley was distraught, the last several hours weighing heavily on her young shoulders. Also, surprisingly, she is bored and fills her time with memories of times gone by. Her dad and her mom had always had her best interests at heart and would do anything for her, she knew. Popularity was something she'd never expected or got at school, just a few close friends and the usual passel of assholes. Now she felt guilty that Kathy had been caught up in this mess she was in. She didn't know why or how, but she was determined to change a lot of things when, and if, she got out of this trap alive. If seemed to be a huge word just now.

She suddenly noticed a spot of blue light on the floor of her cubicle and she wondered about it. What was it? Good or bad?

She'd listened to a lot of scuffling outside of her cubicle and her attention got diverted from the glow for the moment. The older brother was yelling at the younger; treating him like a retard or something. When Chester had grabbed Scoot, the expression on his face was one of loathing and hatred. It scared her more than the prospect of being molested by either one of them. There was an evident lack of control by them both. She only hoped they would leave her alone and allow her the next few hours so she could get her bearing, perhaps she could figure away out of here. The world outside seemed to be filled with silence. A stillness settled over her and she felt as if the world she was in had ended and a rift had occurred between the life she had known and the life she was now living. She was still scared and uncertain as to what the future had in store for her, but she felt a calmness and a peacefulness that had been missing before and she wasn't sure where this feeling came from. Boredom still wavered its head.

A new item of notice began to emerge from the gloom of despair; as once again she turned her attention to the blueness, a bright starry hue of light that had begun to surround her suddenly, and now it was edging around her shape and began spreading out, oozing slowly, sort of like a kind of apparition, like a light shining through a window of stained glass. Curiosity and a tinge of fear grabbed her and held her tightly. She tried to see where the light was coming from but to no avail. There was no window and she could find no place for this tinted light to shine from, however she could see that it was actually there nonetheless. What in blue blazes? Is there someone there, in the light?

A calming voice rose up in her mind and began to talk to her inside her head. The soft voice was very much like a thought, but obviously not one of her own. It spoke as in a whisper and told her that his name was Esen, and it told her things that would give her courage and help build her patience. Subjects she wasn't akin to under normal circumstances and the present was anything but normal.

Again, she stared down at the light as it had grown to cover as much as two feet of the floor around her. She wasn't sure how long she had been in the light, but she became aware that her fear was diminishing somewhat and a calmness was surely settling deep within her mind. "The light is within the darkness, movement is within the stillness, the sound is within the silence." the voice breathed. She started with surprise and wondered what these words meant and why they came to her unbidden.

Shirley found her thoughts drifting to Kathy and the stranger who was being held captive like them. Wondered how they were faring, and what their particular horrors were like, spreading through her mind just as the light was spreading to now cover the entire surface of the floor. She remembered, also that the stranger who was trapped as she was, in a cubicle not too far from her own had screamed earlier. She wondered if she was dead or not and had no problem guessing at what had caused the screams to happen that morning. It was difficult to believe that she'd been free as a bird just twenty four hours previously and was now being held prisoner with a promise of a very uncertain future. What was going to happen to her? What was happening to Kathy and the unknown girl down the way? Were any of them ever going to get out of this? Still, the strange blueness remained and somehow she felt her courage growing from it being there.

**5**

Chester yanked Scoot out of the storage locker quickly, and in a rage. He could see where one of the new girls had been abused and he could tell they were panicky. He grabbed his brother again and looked harshly in his eyes, beating him about the shoulders and neck with a stick of wood he'd picked up from the ground, striking him repeatedly, again and again. He knew he was bruising his little brother but couldn't stop. Whelps were beginning to swell up around his neck, but he had to make sure he knew to stay away from their prisoners, didn't he? After all they were the means for them to make the money so they could rise above their present station in life and hopefully get off of their father's cursed farm for good, but not if his stupid brother ruined their chances.

Ever since their old man had died, he and his brother had been trying to make a living off of this god forsaken farm, but everything just seemed to have worked against them just like it always did. It was almost as if the farm hated them and held them responsible for the demise of Horace; their father. When the offer had come from Randy and his group of men, it had seemed like a blessing; a way out of this trap and by god he was going to see that it happened, and he wasn't going to allow Scoot to screw it up just for a lousy quick feel.

Swearing he was finished with the beatings, Chester felt remorse creep into his soul and his anger retreated, as regret and despair settled upon him like ghosts. He knew his brother couldn't help but be what he was. Scoot stooped and hunkered down, whimpering and repeating how sorry he was and that he would never do it again. His bristling hair, reflecting darts of yellow, the color of ripening wheat as the setting sun caught the shadows and pulled them over his shivering form. "What a day this has been!" Chester griped to himself. "What kind of trouble have we gotten ourselves into?" 

Scoot looked up with pleading eyes, watering from tears of dull, misunderstanding and caught Chester's eyes and held them with his intense stare. "I'm afraid!" he intoned.

Chester's heart went out to his younger brother, and he whispered, "It's gonna be alright bro." He pulled his brother to him and hugged him with on arm. "We have to get these girls fed and bathed, and dressed in clean clothes before Randy and his friends get here. Get up and give me a hand. Will you, huh?"

**6**

Shirley heard not a word of the verbal transaction between the two brothers, she was buried in her own reality, one brought about by the mysterious blue light which had now swallowed and illuminated the entire cubicle with peacefulness and somehow had invoked in her a feeling of rapture and release. She wasn't sure how, but she knew in her heart that she would be ok, and everything would work out as it should. She knew she just had to get back home and to her mom and dad and she knew that this would come to pass.

**7**

Mental storm clouds are forming as an inner emotional storm began brewing deep within Bob's subconscious mind and slowly arose to his conscious mind. He was torn in his cognitive mind between his thoughts of his new love affair with Lois Carver, whom he considers as a hell of a lay and selfishly wants to maintain, and his true, deeper feelings for his family; wife, daughter and pet dog; Holly. Loading him down with guilt and that nagging, incessant throb in his temple, he can tell a migraine is coming on. Acerbated by this strange spiritual black man who has come into his own home, taken over his household and has been telling him and his family what to do and has demonstrated some slight of hand that has completely won over his wife apparently. He performs some kind of light show (perhaps some sort of hypnosis as far as he knows) and we're just supposed to accept and believe, but let me tell you, dear reader, he was actually scared. And worried. He knew the time was now to settle his current troubles.

There was no longer a doubt that something for real was happening to Shirley. All the while as he'd been sharing a sleazy motel room with a beautiful and dependent woman who has financial freedom but not personal freedom and whom didn't belong to him. She belonged to a dangerous husband who provides her with all she needs, except love. A possessive, greedy man, a property believing man who would do anything to keep what he considered his. A man who will go to whatever lengths necessary to keep what he feels is his own, a type of man who will stop at nothing.

Bob knew she'd trying to call his cell phone soon. She had seemed so desperate to be rid of Mark. Is he only being used by Lois? Could it be that he is only a means to an end for her? Perhaps a way to freedom from an overbearing tyrant? He has to come up with a plan to forestall the inevitable. He doesn't like to do it, but circumstances were slipping out of his control, and right now he needed control, and he had suspicions that her husband knows what has happened. His becoming involved with Lois had alerted Mark's attention to his own family and there is no predicting what he would, or could do. Has he something to do with what has happened to Shirley and her friend? He feels in his heart that this is probably true. After all he has lost the trust of his own wife by her own admission. Is he himself the wild card in this catastrophe? He determines that he will stay alert and keep an eye on circumstances carefully. He may be able to find away around this. To thwart the accusations when and if they arise. And, of course, they will.

As a deep uneasiness settles in his bones, Bob surreptitiously glances at Crimson. Catching the old man's dark eyes fixed inexorably in his direction, looking deep into his soul. He could feel the old shaman reading his very thoughts, how disturbing. And without a word the old man rises and silently leaves. Just like that. Bob is turned away and pretended that he doesn't catch this.

He had a lot to think about, there was no denying that. It's just that a man has a right to his own privacy; if you know what I mean. He glanced again at where the old black man had been sitting since he'd come home, and. Pf course, he wasn't there. He could have sworn that he'd just seen the old booger only a second ago, and he was right there, seeming as though he would be rooted there forever.!

He stood up from the chair he was seated in and strode toward the couch in the den. The place that had been occupied by Mr. Leake all day long and now where there was no trace what so ever. He also noticed the blue shine was no longer visible to him. Bob was becoming seriously creeped out about it. "Any body see where Crim went to?" he called out to anyone who could hear and go no response. The house was dark and quiet and that in itself lent a certain degree of spookiness to the atmosphere and he realized that Carol and Ruth weren't there either. This was his own house, and yet, he felt so out of place as he crept through his own den. The screens were off; lamps were all extinguished; residual lights not seen; and no whirs or whines from the kitchen or elsewhere in the house. It was the sound of no energy, those moments right after the realization sets in that you've lost electrical power and the house is powerless.

**8**

Full darkness, an excited Chester noticed, had settled upon the Grimly place like a affectionate lover, he couldn't see his hand when he held it up before his face. When the little farmhouse he called his home was suddenly bathed in a light from the headlamps of an approaching vehicle, for just a fraction of a second, his heart jumped in his chest. Then, the lights of the car followed the contour of the drive like a devotee and pulled to a halt only a few feet from the front façade of the house. The bulky shadow of the shape of Randy's body slowly stepped out of the car as he shook out his hat and donned it crisply. He strode up to the house with purpose and swiftly moved to the door and loudly banged on it.

Chester stood before the door and smiled nervously, "Welcome to my home, Mr. Steele." He held to door open as Randy roughly stepped across the threshold without any response to his greeting. A dark foreboding aura accompanied Randy, it followed no matter where he went. A small entourage of three men followed close behind him and gave off the same aura of cold dampness and the two men who welcomed him felt a chill, a menace emanating from their being, leaving them both feeling a modem of discomfort. The chill crept after him into Chester's house, entirely engulfing the place like a frost settling on and killing fauna in dead of night. He could feel his nerves shivering a wee bit, until they reached a crescendo which wracked his body like a quake, and through an extremely nervous quiver he breathed; "Welcome to my home." repeating what he'd already said.

Barely paying any attention to Chester whatsoever, Randy roamed freely through his home, catching every detail it seemed and finally laid claim to the large recliner which Chester considered to obviously be his own favorite chair. With no small talk or idle chatter, the large unobsequious man asked to see his girls. "Let me see my girls!"

Chester could feel that something was not right with his guest and an uneasiness weighed on his shoulders as he went to retrieve his captives. Behind Randy, following with small footsteps was a Japanese man and two Caucasian men, who maintained an ominous silence throughout the visit and they simply stood by the door, at the ready for the duration of the entire visit. Chester excused himself and left the room, looking for his brother; Scoot.

Scoot was just finishing the clean-up of the bathing area and the girls had been fed, bathed and given clean clothes to wear. Obviously the girls were famished as they cleaned their plates and all of them seemed refreshed by the cleaning and changing of their clothes. Shirley seemed to be more at ease than she should have and spent her time visually exploring the clutter of their home and sneered at the lack of hygiene. Kathy hugged her self and fidgeted nervously, clearly afraid. Candace seemed indifferent and was very pretty, petite and radiant now that her hair and body was clean. They all marched quietly into the living room of the main house and stood. All present paused with bated breath as Randy carefully examined each of them meticulously. Finally he said something in Japanese to his young attendant, which caused a flurry of note writing on the part of Japanese man. Chester swallowed noisily and tried to bite back his dis-ease. A lot was riding on this moment, he involuntarily was holding his breath.

Randy, noticing Chester's reticence, escorted each girl into a back room of the domicile and found a private place in which he could examine them carefully, as did his physician, for scars, sores and any kind of mark which might possibly diminish the value of his precious cargo. He too, had a lot riding on this transaction. During the examinations he noticed the small fresh scar on Candace's abdomen, a grimace flushed his facial muscles, a slight quiver under his eye, he clinched his teeth and an evil expression of disappointment appeared. "How did this gash happen dear? Who has touched my property?" He said too quietly. Candice said not a word, quivering as the medic, one of the white men, examined her wound.

**9**

Frantic and manic, Bob has searched his home. Satisfied that he was indeed alone, he sat back on his couch in the den and tried to understand what was happening. Where was everyone? How did they leave without his noticing? He contemplates his predicament and realizes with astonishment that something incredible was taking place. He remains still and determines that he should not underestimate the personage who calls himself Crimson. He remains buried deep within his jumbled thoughts until he suddenly realizes that Crimson is seated right beside him and he never heard him come in. It was as if he'd been there for some time. Not knowing when and how he appeared, Bob enquired, "Wow! You frightened me. How long have you been here?"

"I have been back in your field of perception for a only a short time. I have returned to let you know about the disposition of your daughter and about what we intend to do about it. She is to be relocated soon from the small farm where she is being held, soon to be moved to a much larger facility, but a little farther away. So far she is still unharmed, yet she is composed and her nerve is steady now. You should feel very proud of her. Her personal outlook is positive and she is extremely brave for such a young person." Crim states in a matter of fact sort of way, as if he was reading a report. "It would appear that you have had a learning period. You have questions for me?"

Bob stares at Crimson disbelievingly. "Where is the blue light and what has become of my wife and her friend, Ruth?" he asks.

"The true spirit is never separated from us. It is always there. I'm afraid it is recognized and is only seen when it is allowed to be. As your own self worth is reflected back to you from that distant part of the void where our actual existence really is, seeing it is only done a special times. Carol needed to see that spirit. You saw it because you still love her greatly, though you seem to be in denial about that at the moment. It appears to be blue whenever this self worthiness occurs, but it is really colorless and clear, the blue merely being a matter or perspective and perception."

Bob mind is hushed, still and quiet. He is trying hard to comprehend the nature of what Crim has just said. He finally breaks down and tears stream from his eyes. "I am in deep shit, Crim." The old shaman nodded his head slightly. "I have been unfaithful to Carol and I don't know how to fix what I have broken."

Bob sits silently for a long time, contemplating the impossible position he has created for himself and wondering what he can do about it. Hard as it is to admit, he finds himself wishing he'd never begun his relationship with Lois. As beautiful, and voluptuous as she might be, he had never realized how strong and important his wife and daughter were to him until this very moment. It is time, he concluded, to make a change. And it must begin at this moment in time.

Danny Brooks


	7. Inner travels

Chapter Seven

Inner Travels

**1**

Deep in sleep, Shirley lies on a matt of foam, having a plastic covering and wrapped in thick sheets of cotton material. She dreams in comfort, and in this dream she is being visited by a man wearing a white robe, embroidered with silver and gold piping and in some mysterious way, he shines. His robe does not cover or block the shine, for his radiance seems to shine right through. She feels comfortable in his presence and he speaks to her as if she is an adult, and she desperately wishes to not be a child any longer. Barely turning thirteen on the twenty eighth of February, she has began to develop into a woman, and despite the complexity of being held captive, she still has plans and dreams of future family and offspring.

The dream being speaks of heavy subjects and of things she has never contemplated before and she finds a fascination for the things he says. "Mind is the area of existence which entails the essence of vibratory detection. I am being detected by your mind, even as you are in your dream state. The methods and manners of everyday life are a composite of the results of your exploration and inspection of your own mind. The ability to use your mind to communicate on the inner level and spend a secret time with others can be developed through deep meditation and severe introspection.

"Upon taking on a student, willing or not, the teacher is obligated to show the power of the inner spirit. The desire of the teacher and his talent of sharing what he knows with a student determines the path of both parties. It has fallen as his responsibility to instruct certain others in the fine arts of spirit awareness and its uses in everyday life. The spirit and its ability to examine the deepest quadrants of their own presence, actually defines what is meant by the mind and also those attributes of certain others which are only available to study through the inner world exclusively."

Introspection was a habitual behavior which Crimson had developed over the years of his meditation practice. His ability to pass this development on to others has blossomed into a talent and blessing, with sometimes dire consequences and sometimes extraordinary results. Sitting on his cushion of soft downy feathers from a swan's underside, complete stillness holding his body as stone, eyes open without seeing the world of reflected light which most call reality, legs knotted into a full lotus, he drifts from world to world searching for those kindred spirits essential for the task he has at hand.

That young Shirley Pennington has need of spiritual strengthening was certain, leaving no doubt as to his aspirations concerning her well being and the path needed to insure his success in protecting her spirit and helping her to accomplish that which was her destiny to fulfill. The screen within his mind held in an image of his good spiritual friend within her mind; Esen. It is this being who now sits within her dream world with the intent of showing her the way out of her captivity. Crimson sits in deep meditation and the images appear in stark sharpness against a background of clear and empty space. Even as Esen reveals to Shirley the mysteries of her mind, he also is able to allow Crimson to witness every detail of her tutelage as well as being able to scrutinize the rapscallion who has her in his foul clutches.

Critical aspects of the situation become clearly apparent and it is his time of action. He moves towards his agenda as it clearly begins to take shape. Knowing that Randolph Stevens is ruthless, not a caring person who has not a single care in his head for others, nor does he take into consideration the feelings that others have. Crimson could see, via the vision of Esen, the task ahead may prove dangerous for himself and Shirley as well. Kathy and Candice also needed help as they are children of the spirit as well, and though unbidden, he would make every effort within his means to intricate that endeavor. He witnessed, without Randy's knowledge of course, the cunning reasoning of a mind who shunned not from killing and torture, but rather enjoyed the power is seemed to give him. In fact, he seemed to find a distinct pleasure and some sort of sense of eternal power, deliberately choosing to ignore the possibility of his own demise. A man with no compassion.

For Crimson, protecting young Shirley and her friend Kathy, and also Candice who is too, caught in this fiend's web, from his imminent design of enslavement and use which had them all in the balance between existence and death took all precedent as he examined all possible aspects of the circumstances they found themselves within. Crimson would do whatever was necessary to bring them safely home. Secondarily, bringing an end to Randy's black empire was included in that plan.

Crimson and Esen could afford no mistakes and the undertaking of bringing down a ruthless entity and his minions seemed a formidable task.

**2**

Not as winded as he'd expected, Randy took in a deep draught of air and held it for what seemed like an eternity, exhaling slowly and feeling that calmness which he desperately needed to complete his business. He was proud of his meditative accomplishments and the power it gave him over other less important people, feeling chosen for his position in life. The merchandise had been only slightly marred and handled, leaving his demeanor a bit rough and anger threatened to overwhelm his sense of propriety. He loved the air out here in the country and it helped restore the proper attitude within himself. He smiled to himself as he reflected over what he loved about the hillside of this quaint town of Cumber, nestled deep in the piedmont area of Virginia, not far from Charlottesville, yet not close enough to any greatly populated area to cause worry about the privacy he needed. His personal privacy was of the utmost importance and the feeling that permeated Randy's usually placid countenance was missing and in its stead remained anger.

He'd gone to such great care to keep his product in great condition and in a proper state of mind. Yet, he had to contend with these amateur yokels who hadn't the slightest idea of how to care for his particular commodity and his last collection had been somewhat, though minimally damaged. The longer and more thoroughly he inspected the young lady who'd called herself Candy the more he was convinced of her value, despite the small scar on her abdomen. As he'd watched the video of her on the internet, his anger had grown until he became uncontrollably wrathful. Damaged goods bring less profit and diminished satisfaction from his clients, all rich bastards who hold that his people which he sold at great profit were no more than chattel: items for self edification, not personages, nor having souls.

Knowing what he thought he knew was what gave him the license and fortitude to be as a God to those who passed his path. Intercepting their way to further his own wasn't only his right and privilege, but his divine calling from his own spirit and its connection to the universal powers which he felt he commanded. He didn't regret the measures he had taken with the idiot brother, nor the reprimand he'd delivered his local yokel; Chester. Though he had captured and kept his property, he'd been careless in his handling of their care and that was inexcusable. He had his physician cauterize the boy's arm and treat his wound with antiseptic ointment so as to prevent contamination and serious infection, but he gave nothing for the pain, as this was, as far as Randy was concerned, a necessary teaching tool.

**3**

Hearing the wrath expressed by the odd man, and seeing the placid face of the Japanese attendant, had given rise to a fearful realization in Scoot's mind. He was in much more trouble than he'd ever been with his brother. At the very least, Chester cared somewhat for him, leaving the harshest punishments for extreme times. "It really was an accident!" he heard his brother say in a weak and nervous voice. Then in a whisper he has to strain his ears to hear; "I was trying to take care of them. It won't happen again."

"Of that, I'm certain." states Randy evenly, harshly, a bit of rancor in his voice.

Chester then came and ushered his only brother into the living room to stand before their benefactor, hoping in his heart that this will be swift and not too painful. They stand in nervousness, fidgeting as they await the decree.

"You have taken a value from me, so I, in turn, shall retrieve a value from you." and with that the quiet Japanese man moves with the lightening speed of a cobra, blurring motion and Scoot's right hand is separated from his arm in an instant, and lies twitching on the carpeted floor of their own home. He screams out in pain and bellows in anguish, falling on his knees and grasping what's left of his right wrist. Chester is filled with anger, but being the coward he is, remains motionless and feels as though he can do nothing. He is filled with shame and tears come unbidden to his eye and stream down his face.

**4**

Suitable for framing and adorably dressed, the three girls; Shirley, Kathy and Candice, step forward into the light of the cozy little room and stand ready for presentation. The small study is filled now with a small crowd of potential buyers, eagerly desiring to own this precious flesh before them. Kathy and Candice stand nervously, shivering together and this somehow sets them well apart from Shirley, who is calmly standing with her chin high and regal, as one who knows her own worth. Not at all the same shy, timid, scared little girl who was shuttled into the dirty storage shed on the Grimly Estate just hours before.

This does not go unnoticed by Randy. Chester, and even the humbled brother; Scoot, stare in utter amazement at the transformation which has occurred in her. Some extraordinary changes had taken place, and her host has an uneasy feeling that something was definitely amiss. Why is this girl so different?

**5**

Shirley's spirit is on a journey, an unexpected journey; a journey of discovering her own self, her conscious mind not even in the room. Though she is aware of the men in the room, the dream man in the glorious robe stands with her, continually introducing her to her own personal spiritual guides and mentors. Many know of these spirits are familiar, for some unknown reason, and some of them are called by many names; angels, ghosts, ethereal beings and so forth. These introductions eventually brought by an old, unremembered friend, though she seemed to recognize his at sight; Etos. Upon the introduction she was immediately filled with remembrance of her old friend. She marveled that she could recall much that she seemed to have forgotten and she knew that this old spirit friend had been with her all of her life.

In he mind, Shirley is riding on horseback, racing swiftly through an empty barren wasteland of stinging sand and whirling wind. The far away horizon was stark and even, shifting as a calm sea of barrenness in all three hundred and sixty degrees of her surroundings. Her stallion is jet black, and she knows he is called Seafire. She knows also that this, though she has not been told is happening in her mind. Etos is now chattering beside her as she is jostled about on the back of this great animal, beautiful as he is, and continually converses with her about Zen riddles, anecdotes and silly stories of folklore and about legends, each holding encouragement, as Esen takes a step back from them and becomes nothing more than an observer. She's not sure she remembers or understands many of the tales of glory and splendor, but she is greatly entertained by them, and they are a welcome distraction from the actions happening in her conscious world.

She finally turns towards her friend and is astonished that she doesn't see her spirit guide. Only the beast of burden that she rides. "Where are you, kind Etos?" Shirley calls, feeling a little timid. "Have you hidden yourself from my eyes too?"

"Certainly not child. I'm right beside you all the way." Etos shot back, showing no rancor.

"In what form do you come to me?" Shirley suddenly shouted, a lot louder than she'd meant to.

"The beast of burden you thought you were observing. That being is me; that is, the form I'm taking in the contextual existence." Etos returned. Esen remained silent after that, merely continued his stride rather deliberately, seemingly lost in his own thoughts.

Shirley stopped her mindful chatter just long enough to focus on the magnificent creature now parading before her very eyes. He was the most beautiful blonde puma she'd ever seen, in pictures or otherwise, and the largest. He was magnificent and huge. A plush brindle coat streaked with blonder shades of hair in a haunting shadow of movement which seems to rustle across his hide as the breeze gently fondled his fur. She had an automatic temptation to run her hands and arms through that luxurious coat and get lost in the warmth of her friendship she assumed would blossom. His whiskered upper lips and bearded chin were almost snowy white and his deep, sparklingly light azure colored eyes holding an intelligence far beyond what she believed herself capable of comprehending. He silently ran beside her glorious steed as they traveled through this magical land.

She noticed diminished tree trunks peering from the small dunes of sand they traipsed through and mentioned them to Esen. He nodded sagely and noted that she had a small modem of empathy as she perused the wasted remains of the life which used to flourish here. _A tremendous quality. Yes! A very tremendous quality_. He thought in response, careful not to yet share his internal responses with the young student. He knew better than to tread on Etos' path. Not a novice spirit, nor unfamiliar with the needs and desires of the less initiated members of the spirit realm, yet the innocence of young Shirley seemed precious and shameful that it must disappear with so much of what Esen felt was essential for the understanding of this exquisite creature.

"Life gone by." was the only answer he afforded her, and quite abruptly dropped the subject of the less fortunate creatures gone away. Shirley dropped from the back of her horse and stood in amazement upon the sands of this empty land. On her feet she suddenly realized that Etos was an enormously huge cat. Four and a half feet height at the shoulders and at least twelve hundred pounds of bone and muscle; a specimen of the epitome of physical strength and beauty.

"How beautiful you are. Such grace and fluidity as I've never seen." She whispered, awe in her voice. "Where is this place?"

"This is your idea of emptiness." Etos said simply. "Not a complete emptiness, non the less… There is still sand, some wind and these curious remnants of life. But, close enough for the purpose."

"I don't understand!"

"You understand more than you realize. This is a place inside your mind, a place where you have escaped the reality of captivity." Esen remained still and did not move forward, waiting for her to move onward.

"I see the sand and feel the wind, but the temperature, though it seems it should be hot and burning, is actually cool and comfortable. Is this but one form amongst many?"

"Any form is possible, the choosing was somewhere within your subconscious mind. You must learn to meditate and discover these places for you self. It is only for you peace of mind that we show you the substance of your existence, comparative to what you think of as ordinary, mundane or just plain being."

The sand instantly became water and she found her black stallion steed had taken the form of a huge whale, of immense size. She was clinging to a fin, and Etos swam beside her in the shape of the largest dolphin she'd ever seen. A silvery gray, shiny and reflective. There was still nothing on the horizon and the sight of land nowhere on the line where the sky seemed to meet the sea. Incredible as it seemed, Etos continued to explain her contextual existence as a transcendent reality existing within other realities much as the layers of an onion, or the contextual existence of a living singular cell. And just as suddenly, the sand was back and the darkness once more bright light as reflected from oceans of dry microscopic rocks.

**6**

Murk is frustrated and angry, he has called Chester's number repeatedly and still has got no answer. Not even an answering service, he couldn't even leave a message. He has a lengthy report sitting on his desk, lots of information for him, but he can't even file the report as no one is taking his call. Frustrated, he pockets his cell phone and goes out to his mobile office and drives on to his next destination. He doesn't know that Chester is out with his own client and has no need or inclination to contact him right this minute. He has problems of his own, in fact, he has pointedly ignored his vibrating cell, hoping against hope that the caller will get the message and call again later, or at the least leave a fucking message. Oh! Yeah, he closed off his answering feature. He feels he's had enough on his plate for the moment thank you.

That Lois has been very unfaithful, is now proven obvious and that information has given Chester the excuse to go ahead, more or less, to officiate the plan for kidnapping and selling a few of the neighborhood girls to an agent who deals in human trafficking. It seemed to be a fool proof plan. Easy enough. Take the girls. Keep them captive and in good condition. Deliver them to Randy and collect his money. Simple it seemed at the time. Easy money! Now in retrospect, he realizes he is in way over his head, in the deepest water he's ever been in and to top that off, he had included his halfwit brother in the deal and now he's lost his hand.

Mark Carver is seated smugly at his desk, aggravated as he is watching his grandfather clock on the floor just behind his liquor counter. His mind wasn't on his work, his possessions which someone is trying to take from him are what he thinks about in his head. His lovely trophy wife being the chief among them. How could she turn her skinny little ass to someone else when he's been providing everything for her. That ungrateful little bitch will pay for this. It didn't take much to get the ball rolling.

He had made a few phone calls to a few of his contacts and this fiend Randolph Steele go back to him almost immediately. Mark told him what he wanted and Randy knew what to do and where he could find what he wanted. Randy was a big time criminal and he assured him that he would also be doing a big favor for him in getting even with the man who was trying to steal his wife, which meant huge rewards in the long run. It helped Mark that he had big, deep pockets and that most of the local police force was in them. They would do what he wanted. He knew that the two bozos who took that report from Carol would get nowhere.

What happened after that first conversation was unknown to Mark and that was the way he wanted it. He wasn't aware that his friend; Bruce Telfair, was also on Randy's list and that his daughter was in his hands being that she had been missing for almost two weeks already. He also didn't know that Shirley's best friend, Kathy was also in his hands. He only knew that he was getting even and he really didn't care about the collateral damage.

**7**

Etos finished with his lessons and finally returned Shirley to the land of conscious thought, to the world she resided in on most days. There she was once more, seated before the men who had bought and paid for her, but she was no longer afraid, nor was she worried about the other two girls. She now had someone in her corner, had unseen help in this time of trial and strengthening. Hoping that these men would finish their business with her and she could actually get back to the solitude of being alone.

Soon enough the girls were escorted to separate rooms, instead of that tight little closet they were in earlier. Shirley sits in a chair and holds her back erect and slowly breath in the deep rhythms that Esen had explained to her. Soon he would be here and she would be gleaning more tutoring and coaching in the ways of the spirit and the powers of those who realize her own spirituality. He does appear and the physical world once again dissolves into the mental constructs of her inner world. She travels now extensively through out the mental landscapes of her mind and eventually finds herself standing with the black man she's come to know as Crimson. She is feeling as though she's lived an entire lifetime in just the last few moments. A fleeting glimpse of her mother and father sitting in anguish in their home comes to her as they sit worrying. Both of them anxious for the safety and well being of their daughter. Holly sits with them all, seemingly undisturbed by the hullabaloo that she's been among during this long day, and in complete trust of the stranger; Crimson, as he directs her parents in their search and discovery of the world around them.

Tears burned Carol's eyes as the truth becomes apparent following the heartfelt confession she just heard from the mouth of her husband. The pain, she recognized, was not just that Bob had betrayed her trust, but because she knew deep within herself, that a part of the fault was her own. She had, indeed, distanced herself from Bob and had even pushed him away from her with her distrust and her uncontrolled release of her basest feelings of anger. She'd had a problem with her anger all of her life, ever since her own mother had rejected her as a woman and had subjugated her to an unwarranted disgust with her, almost as if she were a rival and not her daughter. And now, she was paying the price through what she'd just heard from her husband and the position her own daughter was in at this very moment.

Bob feels certain that he's lost everything. His daughter has been lost, this home and family is gone, and his dignity is all but vanished, yet he see's that Crimson is smiling; a look of cheer in his eyes and his ire is up again. He dares look into the face of his beloved wife and sees that she too is looking at him with love and admiration.

She can't explain it, but she is proud that at last he has been truthful and she sees the real Bob. She knows she still loves him deeply and that his affair with some other man's wife was only a whim, and obviously it is over. She holds out her arms to him and the unbelievable look of relief and joy on his face is radiant. Everything at home is as it should be except that Shirley is still missing. But something tells them both that her rescue is immanent and they both smile at Crimson gratefully.

Crimson feels that a great hurtle is passed and now he can take care of the business of Randy, Mark and Lois. He knows that Esen and Etos are with Shirley and are quite capable of taking care of her and her friends. He draws his legs up into a full lotus posture and deepens his meditative state as he prepares to do full spiritual battle with the likes of the people who dared interfere with the growth and development of young Shirley, Kathy and Candice. He begins to gather his personal power and calls his own personal spirits to him as he begins the inner journey toward his goal.

Kathy was as frightened as she had ever been. Her best friend in the whole world was kidnapped with her and they were being transferred in some old stinky van to whereabouts unknown. Yet, Shirley was as calm and collected as she had ever seen her. She was very proud of how she was holding up in this crisis. She had seemed as scared as she was when the Grimly brothers had snatched them from out of the theatre, but now her composure was as if she knew they were somehow going to get out of this adventure without any problem. These new guys were really scary and the they called Randy, was as feeling less and cold as any she'd ever seen on TV. She could still feel his cold and clammy hands roving her body, looking for scars or defects, without any regard for her emotional state of mind or anything.

Though Kathy had seen Candice in school a few times they had never gone out or been friends. She seemed to be resigned to their predicament, but she definitely didn't like being cooped up in the Grimly place and wasn't particularly enjoying this van ride. She didn't have the cool reserve that Shirley did though, not even close. She wanted to ask Shirley about it but the two physicians who were also riding in the van prohibited and conversation, and she was very uncomfortable with the one who examined them. She didn't like the way his eyes roamed them as he went about his duties back at the house. She missed her mom and was worried about what she was going through, not knowing that she was at the Pennington's house and experiencing this ordeal with Shirley's parents.

Candice couldn't have given a rat's ass about what was happening. She had been felt up before by her dad and his friends plenty of times. Her boy friend had sex with her any time he wanted whether or not she was ready for it. He didn't even ask anymore. Being used was a regular thing with her and she was used to it. She had to admire that Pennington girl, though. She'd never known anyone who could maintain their cool like that in spite of what they were going through. She wished she had the courage that girl did.

Randy sat silently in the passenger seat of his van, Hideki drove with his usual undivided attention, a talent born of years of Zen training. He knew what kind of man his boss was, but he needed the job and he knew how to ignore what he didn't like. Hideki could sense that there was anger emanating from this monster but he knew better than to discuss his senses with him. He would probably not fire him, but kill him without a single ounce of regret. It seemed he had no conscience. He thought also of the innocent young women in the cargo space sitting with those perverts that called themselves doctors. He had a financial target and when he reached that goal, he would disappear and hope he would never be found.

Dan Williams waited in his night club, sipping on his cognac and mulling over his merchandise which was on its way. He collected people, especially young women, but he had a few boys as well. Money was money after all, and it didn't matter to him who the merchandise was, only that he could pass them on to his clients and get large amounts of money deposited into his private account. The arrangements with certain brokers and one text to Randolph and his property was on its way. Simple and easy, just the way he had learned to do business long ago from his old man. He was excited in his own way, and anxiously awaited his new girls. Randy had said they were especially good, and young, in their early teens. Fresh and expensive.

Shirley sits quietly on her cushioned seat and sees visions within her mind and the voices of Etos, Esen and now Crimson all chime together in unison; "Now it is time to join the two worlds of your experience. This is called transcending, joining the poles and becoming one. The inner world and the outer world are not two different worlds but the same world seen from both sides. When both worlds are seen simultaneously, then what you have thought of as your outer world becomes easily controlled and the mastery of your spirit blossoms and your personal power comes to the foreground."

Shirley opens her eyes and peers fearlessly into the eyes of Phil, one of the physicians and his expression becomes one of shame and fear.

Danny Brooks


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

Unexpected turns

**1**

Arlene Rose and Sage Gentry sat in a booth at a local restaurant making an attempt at having lunch. She was not hungry, not eating, only using her fork to move the ingredients of her salad around as she contemplated the events of recent recall, being upset with their Sgt. Brad Reynolds, for he has forbidden them from delving deeper into the investigation of these two missing girls. The Pennington girl and the Stone girl have been missing now for at least 24 hours and still she felt like her and Sage were both having their hands tied behind their backs. She didn't understand why, exactly, and for sure she didn't like it. Sage finally admitted that there was something off kilter and he reluctantly suggested that they still follow up on any leads they came across anyway, despite the contrary orders from their superior.

Brad, on the other hand, was in turmoil, of course he wanted to do the right thing, but he had already been pocketing money from a very influential man, whose interests weren't always within the law, and whose pockets were awful deep. Now, he had a hunch, a gut feeling, that the Pennington girl and her friend were in real serious trouble and that his own hands were tied behind his back and in a way, he didn't know how to get out of his predicament. He was in deeply in Dan Williams' pocket, his captain was in Dan's pocket as well, and as far as he could tell, this corruption went all the way up past even the commissioner. Yet, his instincts were telling him that he should do something, but what? He couldn't do anything without implicating himself.

Sitting in this bar, though he was off duty, his head was swimming from his indecision and guilt. Deep in thought, he didn't notice that there was an old black man watching him form a bar stool just down the bar from himself, until he stumbled and almost fell over the bar stool next to his. The old man looked like he was homeless and drunk. He put his hand on the old man's shoulder, feeling a little powerless. "Are you all right, old man?"

"Better than alright." the old man replied crisply standing upright. Brad noticed there was no slur, _so the man isn't drunk_. The old man spoke, "Decisions are hard to make when one is standing too close to the problem. The trees no longer look like a forest if one is too close." The old man grinned, turned abruptly, and walked back out into the street. After a moment of deliberating silence, Brad ran after him.

"Sir? Oh sir?" But the old man had disappeared. Brad searched up and down the street, frantically looking everywhere, but there was no body. He finally returned back in to his seat and stood by it, staring at his empty glass wondering. So deep in thought as to what the old man had said that a seed of solution settled in his mind. _To close to the problem_ he thought, feeling as if a light had gone off in his head. _I should go home and find a way to do what I need to do. There must be a way to save these girls without destroying what we have built._

**2**

Murk Kelantan quickly closed his cell phone and shook his head in anticipation. Chester was finally bringing him his check, but he sure sounded really weird over the phone. He seemed to be having second thoughts about his part in what he had to do to Shirley Pennington and her friend as well. Something about the way the girls had been acting and what had happened to his brother, Scoot. Murk couldn't help what had gone on at the Grimly place, nor did he even care, only that he'd done his assignment. He had taken the required pictures. He had made the appropriate reports. He had done his job and now he was out of it. Done. Still, there was that nagging tension at the back of his mind, that ache in his neck, wondering if this contract was going to come back and maybe bite him in the ass. He has a queasy feeling.

Crimson had a way of being where he was needed, and surreptitiously showed up in unobtrusive circumstances and no one suspected that he was even conducting the outcome of this elaborate, seemingly unconnected, random set of orchestral pieces of this single tapestry. His next visit would be a tough one, he knew that he had to turn the momentum of this fiasco around and he had to do it fast for Shirley's sake. He knew the key to this change would be the local law officials so he determined that he would present himself to the two officers who took the first report. He headed for the professionals who were even at this minute seated at a booth in a local restaurant, fretting over the fact that their hands were tied on this investigation. He'd also pick a name out of Sgt. Reynolds mind while he was with him. A primary name who would be of great importance.

**3**

Shirley was listening Eton's voice. He was in **her** head now, and almost continuously. The things he mentioned seemed to be related to exactly what she had on her own mind, and that fact meant that she knew she would have to do something about their predicament, as there was no one to help them but themselves. She had finally realized that within her own spirit was the capacity to react and the knowledge of what needed to be done and when was within her mind already. She had decided, with the help of her personal spirit (she loved him already); Eton. She looked as sensual as she could manage and batted her lashes and allowed her eyes to finally meet Shannon's. The medical intern blushed deeply and he pulled slightly away embarrassed, before he actually did allow himself to get a little closer. Andrew quickly grabbed his sleeve, pulling him back and voicing his annoyance. "Hey dude! Don't get so chummy with these girls!" he scowled and then went back to his petulant stare.

Shirley inched her left leg forward a microbe length, and looked directly into Shannon's eyes and saw that she was having the right effect on him, he seemed that he was about to cream his pants, and his embarrassment was palpable, being intrigued was inescapable. She knew she had him in her power, he would be slower and totally unable to be too threatening to her.

"I said; no getting googley on the GIRLS!" Andrew said angrily as he seemed to swell up to almost twice his previous size!

But her eyes would just not let him go, and he had no power to look away, despite the admonishments coming from Andy. He looked at Andy angrily and shouted, "I'm not hurting nuthin'! I'm only looking'! So fuck off!"

Andrew's face turned purple, he almost looked like a cartoon, Shannon almost waited for the steam to come from his ears. He wasn't afraid of Andy because he knew Andy couldn't fight and he, himself had been in the wrestling team at high school and knew how to do a couple of tricky moves. This could be a quick and easy dance.

**4**

Sage was worried about Arlene, "Aren't you hungry?" he asked as his phone went off. He picked it up and he answered hurriedly; "Officer Gentry!" Has spat out confidently. "How may I assist you?"

A voice sounded in his ear but it wasn't his Sergeant as he expected, nor was it the normal dispatch. Instead it was a strange voice. The voice said; "Why don't you two go out and check out the Grimly place! I've heard something was going on out there." It was the voice of a man, but he didn't recognize it.

"Who is this?" he barked into the cell, but there was no answer. Only silence. The voice was no longer there and the usual protocol was not followed, still he turned to Arlene and said; "Hey! Let's go out to the Grimly Farm and check it out! That's what he said", Sage said, leaving out that he did not recognize the voice.

**5**

Chester held out the check he had made out to Murk Belantan and looked at it, wondering why it looked so wrong. His puzzled expression changed to a blank stare as a blood filled hold appeared suddenly in the middle of his forehead, a trickle of blood appeared and slowly ran down his nose as he fell forward. He didn't have the time to wonder about Scoot.

Scoot was down in the pantry house, painfully cradling his arm and lamenting its loss when he heard a crack, like someone had stepped on a twig, or maybe a firecracker going off in the distance. He froze in place suddenly and promptly forgot about his arm, slinking down and becoming quiet, he slowed his breath like they did in the movies, but a quiver appeared in his lower lip and he waited for whatever that sound meant.

**7**

Kathy's face grew wide and her eyes bugged as she stared unbelievingly at her friend. _How did she know to act that way? _She wondered, surprised_. She'd never acted that way at school! _She sat nervously and glanced worriedly from left to right and back again, not knowing what to expect. She expected something though, of that she was sure. The doctors were getting hostile and she could tell something was going to blow. A voice sounded in her inner ear (mind) and told her to be still and patient, her safety would be coming and all three of them would be set free. Kathy wondered, _could this be the same voice talking to Shirley_.

**8**

Murk Kelantan was becoming impatient and decided to drive out to the Grimly Farm and collect his money. After all, he'd done his job and now he needed his money which he was rightfully due. His dirty old Skylark rattled and shimmied all the way and as he pulled into the quarter mile drive an poignantly ominous feeling began to fill his being, like ice water encapsulating his soul. The farm was way too quiet. There was no sound at all, not even the cows were bellowing in the fields and no insects. He got out of his car and approached the old farmhouse with trepidation, stepping cautiously as he neared the door.

The door was ajar and not a sound of life came from it. No body roamed the small sheds to the rear of the yard and there was no dog running about clambering for his attention as there usually was. _Where was their mutt? Why was there no one around? _Fear and foreboding filled his head as he stepped into the house and he was chilled to see Chester, dead on the floor, his cell phone open to his side, his check on the floor. He called out, "Scoot? Are you here?" there was no answer. Murk picked up his check and went outside, walked down by the sheds and finally heard a mewling whimper coming from one of the small storage sheds.

He opened the door and was surprised to see Scoot, hunkered down holding his handless arm close to his body and tears streaming down his face. "What happened here Scoot?"

"S-s-someone c-c-came and killed Ch-ch-chester. I crept down here and hid until they left and I been here ever since." He sounded like a little child instead of a grown man. "Is Ch-Chester okay?" He asked, his lower lip quivering.

"I'm afraid he's dead Scoot?" Murk looked at the young man with pity and sadly realized the name on the check was wrong, there would be no check for his services. He would have to go and see Mark Carver, a prospect he didn't relish.

As he was contemplating what he should do, a police cruiser pulled up to the house and two officers strode towards the door of the homestead. He knew it was Sage and Arlene and headed in their direction, Scoot leaning on his should heavily as he went. "Did I g-get Chester k-k-killed?" he whispered.

Sage felt the hairs on the back of his neck raise and bristle, a chill ran down his back as he looked over the body that used to be Chester Grimly. _A kidnapping and now a killing, what's next? _he wondered. Arlene was quiet as she took careful steps around the empty rooms, noting the almost empty glasses on the coffee table and the disarray of the furniture. Someone had been here and something unusual had happened here. She considered this a crime scene and before Sage could caution her she called the station house and asked for an investigation team to be sent out. In less than an instant Sergeant Reynolds was on the line and he was asking about what they had found, and he wondered how they knew to visit the Grimly Farm?

"We got a call, or at least Sage did, saying that there was something to check out here at this farm, and here we are."

"Put Sage on and let me speak to him." She patched Sage in and watched the expressions on Sages face as he tried to explain about the call he'd gotten over the police dispatch from the unknown voice. As Brad Reynolds prepares to dress his subordinate down for his breech of protocol, the thought of the old man and his comment return to him and he reconsiders. "Perhaps I've been a little too close to this problem. Good call on following up on your lead. Let me know if you need any additional help. You are a good officer. I wish I had more like you. Carry on."

Sage's chest swelled out and Arlene was surprised to see a smile on his face as he closed the connection to their superior. She realized she had been holding her breath and released it as she relaxed into the investigation of the horrible activity that happened at this godforsaken place.

**9**

Candace had a perpetual sneer on her face. Her cynicism was naturally developed from the rocky relationship she had with her mother and the absence of a father at an early age. When she saw Shirley vamping for the young doctor, the sneer morphed into a look of amusement for a few seconds and returned as she felt her own ire begin to build. She was growing tired of being abused by everyone and though she had taught herself to leave her body when it was being used, she had built up a large resentment and knew that the internal anger would eventually fester into a rage one day and it seems that this may be the day. She saw Shannon actually reach toward Shirley as she pursed her lips into a sexy pout. Andy scowled and reached to pull Shannon's arm back, but as he did Candace broke free of her trance of fear and drove her left foot into Andy's solar plexus. Shannon turned on her in alarm and as soon as his attention was diverted by Candace, Shirley rammed her knee into his face and shattered his jaw and his teeth as he collapsed in a heap on the floor of the van. Shirley grabbed her knee and marveled at the pain there as Candace howled loudly in delight at what they had done.

Randy heard the loud shouts in the rear of the van and figured his two lummoxes in the guise of doctors were at it again. They were always arguing with each other and one day he would do something about it, but now he had a delivery to make and a large paycheck to collect. He would deal with them two later. Hideki glanced nervously at his boss and shrugged his shoulders, grinning that insidious smirk of his.

Kathy finally broke out of her frozen stupor and realized that they were free. "We need to get out of here!" she cried.

"We're going at least fifty miles per hour and we would be killed if we jumped out here and now." Shirley shouted.

Candace let another of her primal screams of release, ululating loudly as she crowed over their victory. The sound reached the ears of their captor and he yelled for Hideki to stop the van. The van screeched to a halt and the girls were thrown forward, bruising them a little but not really hurting them. All three rushed for the rear door of the boxed in van, and jumped to the ground and hurried to a small copse of oaks and maples off to the side of the road, scattering as they went.

Candace and Shirley dropped to the underbrush, but Kathy took off running away from the van hysterically screaming, scratching and cutting her legs up in the process. She felt nothing but elation at being free as the adrenaline flooded her body, but in her light colored clothes she were highly visible to Randy and Hideki as she fled. Hideki ran after her as Randy carefully looked around the perimeter of the vehicle, sure that the other girls were hiding in the shadows.

Shirley had Eton whispering in her ear, telling her to not move a muscle, while Candace had a euphoric smile on her face, enjoying the best excitement she'd had in years. Neither noticed the chill in the late evening air, nor were they watching as Randy circled behind them, noticing the white panties as Candace's skirt rode up her legs and over her buttocks.

"Don't even think of moving." He shouted menacingly.

Candace rolled and shouted, attempting simultaneously to kick her tormentor in his crotch, but he was quicker and caught her by her wrist, twisting her in mid-air and stabbed his nine inch blade deeply into her abdomen. She screamed as blood gushed down her torso, seeming to drench everything. She stared disbelievingly at her stomach and the mess her tummy had become and collapsed to the mat of the wooded ground. Shirley looked on in dismay and disbelief, feeling a part of herself deflate as her newly found friend died right in front of her own eyes. "She is finally free." Eton's voice whispered in her ear. _This isn't fair. _She thought in anguish. "Life isn't always fair, but it is sometimes merciful when it is needed to be." Eton's voice soothed. "You can still visit with her on the other side when this ordeal is done." She cried quietly as Hideki returned with Kathy stumbling before him as he prodded her along.

"What happened?" Andy shouted dimly trying to catch his breath from the back of the van.

"These girls got the better of you, you moron!" Randy shouted back, wiping the blood from his knife. "Get these two back in the van and keep a eye on them. Where is fuck is Shannon?" He looked in the back of the van and saw Shannon unconscious on the floor, his face punched in and pulled his pistol and shot him twice. Killing was easy to him and he felt no remorse.

**10**

Carol Pennington was floating in the air, about a foot and a half above the floor of her den. She wasn't aware that she was floating as she was immersed within the blue sphere which surrounded her. She had started her meditation as she had been taught by Crimson a couple of hours ago, but to her it only seemed to be a few minutes. Her beloved husband, floated beside her now, able at last to experience the freedom of the blue light of the pure spirit. A vision appeared to her and she could see clearly the small copse of trees and the body of a strange girl lying dead within them. She could see the white boxed van speeding away and she knew with a certainty that it contained their daughter and Kathy. She opened her eyes and settled to the floor, glancing at Bob as he too settled and smiled at her. "Did you see what I just saw?" she intoned.

"No! But I could tell that you saw something. You're the psychic, not me." She'd not seen that particular glow on her husbands face for years, yet it was there now and she felt good. "You'd better call the police and let them know what you've seen"

Sage took the phone call on his cell, patched in from the station, and he was surprised that it was Carol Pennington. He listened and responded, "How did you come across this information?" He listened some more, "I can't use information you saw in a vision in your head as a lead!" he continued to listen and his face went from disbelief to shock and dismay. "Thank you for this information. We'll check it out and get back to you, Mrs. Pennington."

**11**

Dan Williams was on his fourth drink, and was sipping his cognac in a relaxed manner so he'd been waiting much longer than he thought was necessary. He wasn't really angry yet, but Randolph would have to have a really good explanation. He wasn't the kind of man you kept waiting, he was CEO of a major corporation and had an important agenda, but still he was anxious to have his new acquirements. He would wait, his man in the limo would have no choice but wait. So far Randolph hadn't let him down and he didn't see any reason this time would be different.

He noticed an old black man in a tailored suit drinking at the bar and surreptitiously looking in his direction, like he recognized him but wasn't sure. Dan raised his snifter and beckoned for the intriguing man to join him, after all, he had already been waiting for some time and who knew how much longer it'd be. The old man looked a little bewildered and gave the gesture of 'who me?' and sauntered on over carrying his drink in his hand.

"What are you drinking?" Dan asked innocently.

"Just some bourbon on ice, I think with a little soda water." The man smiled tentatively and gently sat down. "Don't I know you from somewhere? I could swear I've seen you before."

"I've been in the papers and on television. I'm the head honcho for one of the large corporations who are moving into the area and I'm here to help set up some advertisements for the promotion of our goods and services." He answered in a friendly manner and welcomed the old man, like he would anyone who was a potential client of his company. "What is your name, Sir?"

"Crimson Leake is my name. I know who you are and I specifically came here to see you and speak with you though I'm sure you've never met me. I met with an associate of yours earlier today." Crimson smiled and toasted the executive with his glass, dropping all pretense.

Dan looked quizzical and motioned for the barmaid to bring them another round of drinks. He took out his wallet, extracted a credit card, and paid for them with a bit of flare. "Let's have another toast and see what you have to say to me." he finished with some grandioso.

"I know that you're waiting for the girls." Crim said without preamble or hesitation. "They are going to be a bit late, I'm afraid."

"Do you work for Randolph?" cutting to the chase himself.

"No. I don't work for anyone. I am here on behalf of the two girls."

"Two girls? Did you say two girls? I was told there would be three!"

Crimson smiled coolly and said, "One of them is dead. Randolph had to stab one of them when they were escaping from his vehicle."

"How could you know this?" Dan asked, his voice incredulous.

"I am privy to a great many things. I know that you are attempting to traffic human beings, and that though you appear innocuous, you are a contemptuous man inside. To use people as you do, not even knowing who they are or any thing about them."

"I don't know what you're talking about and I'm sure you're mistaken. I thought you were talking about another party."

"I know more than you know. Little Shirley Pennington and her best friend Kathy Stone are fine young ladies and are not for sale, and if you try to follow through with this transaction you will pay a higher price than usual." Crimson's demeanor was no longer friendly, a fiercer side was showing.

Dan Williams raised his hand and motioned for one of his bodyguards to come over to their table and take care of this potential problem. The huge body builder strolled over nonchalantly and quietly bent over towards his boss. "Horace, this man is bothering me and I want you to escort him out without making a scene. Can you do that?"

"Yes sir! Right away."

He turned to look at Crimson, but the look on the old man's face gave him pause. Despite his uneasiness he spoke in almost a whisper, "Could you quietly come with me sir?"

"I think not young man." Although the body guard was twice his size, Crimson grabbed his finger and twisted, bringing the huge man to his knees in less than a nano second. He continued the twisting and brought the man's head very close to his face. "It would be to your advantage to wait until I tell you we are finished with our discussion. Do you understand me?"

Horace nodded weakly and said that he would comply, contempt showing clearly in his voice.

"I have never seen anyone ever get the best of Horace Weats." Dan said astonished and beginning to feel a bit nervous. "What do you want me to do? You don't even have a weapon."

"Remain still and allow me to handle the transaction when Randolph comes in. Don't interfere or let on that anything is out of the ordinary. I'll take care of everything." Crimson said conversationally, as if he were speaking to an old acquaintance.

"How did you know about me? I only spoke to Randolph exclusively, only he knows of these arrangements, and he never mentioned you." Dan was leaning in close now, voice taking on a dangerous tone.

"I know things through a means you would never understand. We are all of the same spirit and as such, we know many of the things we all feel, see, and think. I guess you could call it a kind of telepathy, but I can see things within a man and I have friends in odd places who point me in directions no one else would go." Crimson's voice was oddly quiet and relaxed. To Dan's surprise, he showed no fear or tension.

"Do you expect me to believe this bullshit? Do you know what I'm capable of?"

"Probably more than you know yourself. I've nothing to fear from you, as there's nothing you can do to me."

Dan's face showed a smirk of bravado as Horace came back in the bar, this time with three of his associates, all as big as he was. They quickly surrounded Crimson's chair and Horace bent over again, keeping at a little distance this time. "You need to come with me sir, and this time I'm not asking." his voice firmer than before.

Crimson reached out quicker than anyone expected and lightly touched Horace on his hand. A pain of coldness shot through the large man with such abruptness that he cried out. He stepped back from the old black man in surprise and nodded towards his three friends. Jan Porter reached forward and put his hand on Crimson's arm. Crimson whipped around so quickly that all three were startled as his motion coupled with the arm hold he had on Jan hurtled the big man across the room, crashing into chairs and tables, the sound of breaking glass loud in the air. The other two cautiously approached this dangerous man.

**12**

Arlene shook with anger as she looked down on the mat of ground where the gutted body of the young woman lay. Sadness welled up in her as she recognized that the young woman was dead, she'd seen death before. A large pool of blood had spread under her body though her skin was still fairly warm. "This didn't happen very long ago, not more than an hour." She whispered to Sage as he crouched down beside her.

"Apparently not. There wasn't much of a struggle, evidently so the perp had some advantage, probably size. There's evidence of a chase through the field through that way," he said, nodding his head in the direction he spoke of, "and I can see where someone was shepherded back through here. And paying some attention to these tire tracks, I noticed something interesting. They agree with our source, they obviously drove off in that direction towards Lynchburg. We have a full description of the van though, and these tire marks are a perfect match for the tracks we saw back at the Grimly place."

Sage shook his head in disbelief, "This case is taking a lot of unexpected turns."

Danny Brooks


End file.
